Deadlocked
by Danowsawa
Summary: When the Recall was ordered, all but one responded. Of course, Jesse McCree is the last person Overwatch needs off of their radar, so Winston tasks Lena Oxton to hunt him down and bring him home. But when she delves too deeply into his life, and more importantly, his enemies, perhaps he truly has no home to return to.
1. Sisters in Arms

_A/N: This story follows a sort of 'expanded universe' I've written for Overwatch, and it's recommended that you read 'Reign From Above', 'Madness and Meihem in the Outback', then 'Lacroix' before this story if you want to follow along certain themes, plot-points, and references._

 _Also, the cover art was created by 'lipeka' over on Tumblr; and it's amazing! Go check out the rest of their art :D_

* * *

Lena Oxton, the "Furious Flighter" as she'd sometimes called herself, roamed the hallways of the Gibraltar Watchpoint, speedily, as if unable to hold still for any longer than a second or two. Sure enough, even when she slowed up, her body would evaporate into the air, bursting through a shot of empty gravity before materializing clear across the room, having made up for any lack of speed.

Still, despite her lackadaisical attitude and general tomfoolery, she knew very well that, here, she was at work, and at present, that was quite clear. "Faheera" and Mei had returned from Australia, bringing along two newbies, at that. Lena knew she had to work quickly- not that that was any issue for her.

Popping into the prep area for surgery, her eyes and nose peeked into the next room, seeing a rather large man sitting on the medical table, reading over a sheet of paper in his hand. This must have been that Roadhog fellow, she figured; Mei had already written up a detailed report, illegally posted it onto her blog, removed it, and then taken it to Winston for a confidential debriefing, though Lena was included in all those.

She walked into the medical room, Roadhog's head looking up at her blankly, helped by his heavy mask, as she spoke up, happily, "Hiya! How'ya doin'?!"

Roadhog didn't answer as he tilted his head back down toward the paper, though, on the way, his eyes seemed to notice the device implanted into Lena's chest, a whirling energy present within the thing. Following his stare, Lena peered down, laughing as she held both fists on her hips, striking a triumphant pose.

"Oh, my chronal accelerator? Pretty nifty, huh?" she spoke up, admiringly, "Yeah, it's no big deal… It just lets me warp through freakin' time and space. Nothing much."

She giggled at her "cool" attitude, shaking her head as she leaned back, though Roadhog only returned to reading. In a split second, Lena warped over to his side, reading over his shoulder, which he obviously didn't care for. She nodded with an agreeable gasp as she figured out what was going on.

"Ahh, you're the one getting your lungs fix-… Hmm, this is a recovery regiment? How're ya liking them?"

Roadhog went on staring but ultimately shrugged with an affirmative, "Nice. Doesn't feel like I'm huffing exhaust with every breath."

"Awesome!" Lena shouted excitedly.

Roadhog looked away, "I'd like to say I'd make use of these, but I'm just quiet in general."

Lena grinned mischievously, leaning in toward him with a subtle tap of her elbow on his arm, "We'll make a talker outta you yet, don't worry! Just make sure you call me Tracer when were on base, alright?"

"The doctor mentioned something like that," Roadhog muttered in reply, monotonously, "Said I should just call you Oxton."

Lena grimaced angrily, huffing out her breath as she shot back, "Ah ha! I bet it was Angela, wasn't it? I oughta give her a piece of my mind, ya know!"

She looked around quickly, settling for a nearby desk and beginning to rummage through it, yanking out a stack of sticky notes, triumphantly throwing her hand into the air, "Got 'em! We'll see how she likes what I'm cookin' up… Mwah ha ha!"

She cackled maniacally as she rushed out of the room, a quick burst of atmosphere throwing some papers into the air, though Roadhog simply sat there, confused by the entire scene.

Winston had been watching his monitor all morning, barely breaking his view away to even speak to other people. A grin look stayed across his face as his eyes stared intently at the blips and lines that crossed the map of the American Southwest he'd had pulled up. Groaning, he finally lowered his head into his waiting hand, rubbing his face as the door behind him shot open, Lena Oxton walking in nonchalantly.

She tossed a pack of pink sticky notes onto her desk, falling into her chair as she leaned back, exhausted, exhaling loudly, "Whew, it's already been a day. I went up and fixed the antenna, checked in on our patient, and managed to tackle one of the bots that had gone haywire."

Turning toward Winston, her face sank, "But that's not all that needs to be done, huh..?"

Winston groaned, shaking his head, "Bah, it's nothing. We'll give him another week maybe, but I'm getting worried; I know he and Gabriel were tighter-knit than anybody else, so given what all has transpired-"

The door flew open, revealing Dr. Ziegler with a rather heated look on her face, waving around a small slip of pink paper, "Lena!"

The pilot turned to her, suddenly, but couldn't hide the slight grin on her face, despite her words, "What? Is something wrong?"

Angela shot her a glare, "Why do I have Dr. Zhou and her lab-monkey taking turns kicking me?!"

Lena shrugged dramatically, still with a wide smirk, "I have no idea! Maybe they'll start calling you "Ziegler" next; you'd better keep 'em under control!"

The doctor turned to Winston, exasperated, but stopped as she saw him so intent on his computer that he hadn't even noticed her arrival. She tossed the sticky note away into a trash can as she approached him, resting a hand on his arm to get his attention, causing him to jump in surprise.

"Oh!" he shouted as his head swung down toward her, "Sorry about that. I was just, uh, counting."

"Counting?" Angela questioned, skeptically, "The gorilla who can do calculus in his head was so entranced by counting digits?"

Winston chuckled lightly, shaking his head, "Alright, you got me. You know when I sent out the recall, there was a set amount of time to get back to me about each person's status. An RSVP, sort of, and everybody responded…except for one."

Angela thought for a moment who she hadn't seen or heard about since returning, though it took her a quick look at the map on the screen to come to a conclusion, "Jesse?"

Sighing, Winston gave a nod, "We haven't heard from him. and yesterday was the final day to respond. Normally, I wouldn't be so dead-set on a reply, but given the circumstances…"

Angela's eyes shrunk as she peered down from the screen, her voice a hollow whisper, "Reyes?"

Her heart sank as she spoke the words. Of course, that was no longer the name given to him by Overwatch, though it had taken a far greater toll on Angela than anybody else to come to that conclusion. He had nearly killed Fareeha, after all; though out of that situation came the fact that Gabriel was, indeed, alive, which allowed Overwatch the need to prepare for anything, especially since Gibraltar was nearly infiltrated.

"Angela…" Winston repeated, getting her attention as she stood there lost in thought, "I didn't bring it up to you for that very reason. Though, to be honest, I have no reason for it to be anything needing to be brought up."

"It… No, it's fine," Angela muttered, downcast, "I understand though. Gabriel was the one who trained him; Jesse pretty much answered to him."

"Yes, and given his place in Blackwatch, I'd say he isn't exactly the one we need flying under the radar," Winston spoke matter of factly, "I'll wait a few more days, just to be sure. I don't know what else to-"

"I'll go!" Lena shouted, bursting through space and up to the other side of Winston, hopping up and down, "I'll go check on him! I've always wanted to jump the Grand Canyon!"

The others stared at her, though her elated smile remained, "See. See the Grand Canyon."

Winston rubbed his chin, looking back up at the monitor seriously, "Hmm… I'll think about it. It certainly isn't a task I could ask of many others, especially Angela or Fareeha… I'll get back to you tonight, alright? I'll call Adawe and get her take as well."

Lena hopped up and down excited, "Awesome! It's been so long! Y'know, he's the only one who'd call me Tracer 'round here; it made me feel like a super-secret agent or something! Ziegler, here, just makes everybody call me "Oxton". Ugh."

Angela shrugged, "You're stubborn like an ox; I didn't think there was much-"

Lena angrily popped through Winston's chair and in front of Angela, her serious face being incredibly uncharacteristic, to the point where Angela gave a short as she tried her best to hide her laughter. Lena only stared harder, upset with being made fun of, it seemed to her.

"Now, now; no fighting in the office," Winston sighed, "We have a gym for a reason."

"Yeah, and I'll see you there!" Lena sneered at Angela, who'd covered her mouth to hide her laughter.

She huffed off in a blast of energy, quickly leaving the room as Angela finally broke into a laugh, earning Winston's interrogation, "You sure do enjoy getting on her nerves."

Angela shrugged, wiping her face, "I mean, she gets on my nerves sometimes, so she deserves it, but I love her. Besides, if I don't get riled up, what else would she do here? Other than childish attempts at getting me assaulted from behind, that is."

She looked off, distantly, "Mei was much too eager to kick me, at that…"

"Well, in any case, if you do I tend to spar with her, it'd be a good opportunity for her to use up some of that energy," Winston noted, "Go easy on her."

"Pfft, like she'd go easy on me," Angela scoffed, knowingly.

* * *

Angela wiped the sweat from her brow, unhappily examining her damp rag as it hadn't done its job, simply tossing it to the ground before turning to grab another one. Fareeha, in an attack stance, returned to standing as she sighed with a unhopeful expression.

"You know, you won't be able to do that in a match, right?" she reminded, dishearteningly.

"Well, this isn't a match," Angela groaned, grabbing a dry rag to wipe off her face, "You know, in nursing school, we dedicated a whole week to simply wiping sweat off of our doctors while they worked."

"You don't get nurses in sparring," Fareeha groaned, rubbing her cheek, "Okay, power stance!"

Angela looked down at her feet, placing them correctly, though by the time she had her arms up, Fareeha could have rushed up to her, taken her to the ground, and broken a few joints. She examined the doctor's unsure stance, her face dropping, which Angela noticed.

"Alright, maybe technique isn't the way to go," Fareeha muttered, quietly, almost hoping she wouldn't hear, "Let's just try something like… Okay, Lena likes to go for the legs, then quickly go to town as you're on the ground, so perhaps we should focus on that. How quick are your feet?"

Fareeha waited for her reply, but her face slowly saddened as she recalled their night in Oslo, a few months ago- the doctor's feet stepping on her toes more than they were touching the floor as they danced. Angela seemed to be recalling the same event as she noticed Fareeha's expression, her words quietly appearing.

"Uh… Remember Oslo?"

"Yeah…" Fareeha answered, weakly, "I just thought of it, actually. Let me get a jump rope and we'll just-"

"N-N-No, that's fine!" Angela cried out, her hands out in front of her as her head shook, rapidly, "J-Just, let's forget the jump r-r-rope, alright?"

Fareeha eyed her, wryly, "Doctor Ziegler, are you afraid of jump ropes?"

"Pfft," she scoffed, looking away, "No! I'm totally _NOT_ afraid of tripping and smashing my face into the ground… again!"

She crossed her arms, sighing, "All the kids _had_ to have jump ropes at some point, and of course, I'm not any good with that sort of athletic coordination. So I fell; nobody knew when to do; they just stood there like headless chickens, so I just laid there, bleeding, for however long until a week parent came by."

Fareeha smiled, "No wonder you need to know the ins-and-outs of everything you do. I'm starting to learn more and more of what makes you tick, Dr. Ziegler."

Shrugging, Angela half-heartedly agreed before Fareeha held her leg back, raising her palms in front of her, "Well, time to learn everything about sparring. Come on; hit my hand! What was the first thing I taught you?!"

"A healthy spirit is a healthy body!" Angela shouted out, jumping into an attacking stance, grinning assertively, "Don't worry; I bring the fire!"

"Then hit me!" Fareeha shouted back, but as Angela punched her open hand, she actually ended up knocking herself off-balance as she pushed toward Angela in anticipation, the doctor's fist doing nothing.

Angela frowned, dropping her head, "I'm hopeless, aren't I?"

"N-No!" Fareeha assured her after regaining her footing, "We just, you know, need to work at it. You said it was next week, right?"

"Tonight."

"Toni- oh, shit," Fareeha muttered, quickly regaining her spirit, "I-I mean, yeah, well get you prepped by tonight! Come on, it's Lena; it's not as if she'll drop you like a bag of dirt or anything."

"I don't know," Angela grimaced, uncertainly, "She seemed pretty upset by the whole Oxton thing. And, of course, that time I referred to those trails of spacetime she leaves behind her as "oxtails"; she didn't really care for that."

Fareeha held in a snicker as she covered her mouth, shaking her head, "You two…"

Groaning, Angela replied, "I know, I know. We're like sisters and all that."

"Something like that," Fareeha muttered behind a grin.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lena was hanging from a punching bag, her arms and legs all wrapped around the thing as she vigorously bit at the leather casing, a rather audible growling escaping from her as Mei watched, horrified. The scientist covered her face with her hand, shaking her head in dismay before looking up toward Reinhardt, who had pretty much the same expression.

"You know, such tactics would get you shot back in my day," Reinhardt groaned heavily.

Mei shrugged, "That's her problem, though. She doesn't exactly have 'tactics'; I've seen her in combat, man, she just bolts around like a mad dog. That wouldn't exactly be fair, though, in a sparring match."

Lena had allowed herself to slide down the bag, now sitting sadly on the padded floor below, legs outstretched as she looked over to the others, pitifully, "Am I a lost cause?"

"NO! NO!" Reinhardt assured her, boisterously, "You just… Have you sparred before?"

She shrugged, limply, "Well, Faheera, once, but I hadn't a clue what I was doing; I was mostly just diving at her legs and praying for a win. She's crazy good, though."

"Fareeha," Mei corrected, frowning.

Reinhardt let out a quiet moan as he thought to himself, tapping at his cheek, though Mei continued speaking, "Why did you pick a fight, anyway, if you weren't sure you'd win?"

"I don't know," Lena groaned as she fell backwards, now laying across the floor, "I didn't think she'd actually accept. She's always on about not harming others; I don't know what all has changed."

"She has somebody _to_ fight for!" Reinhardt shouted out with a smile, "Or there's just something about those Amari women; I'll tell you, nothing made me more disheartened about carrying my shield than knowing my Ana wasn't able to be behind it!"

He nodded gallantly, "Were she to ask, I'd take up my hammer and just-!"

Suddenly, he burst out a massive punch at the punching bag, tearing it from its chain to the wall, sending it flying into the wall. He roared like a proud lion as he did it, but quickly hushed himself, embarrassed, looking around as if to see if anybody had seen him.

"Let me just, uh, find some glue or something…" he spoke quietly as he sauntered off, peering outside the door for anyone else before ducking out of the room, leaving only Lena and Mei there.

Mei sighed, her lips contorted in reluctance, though Lena was quick to catch that she had a plan cooked up, and she bolting through the air toward her, landing on her knees and pleading up toward her, "I know you've got somethin'! C'mon! Let me in on it! Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplea-"

"Okay!" Mei interrupted, bracing herself for the hug that Lena immediately jumped into, "Look, remember the Chronal Accelerator that _I_ made? The Zhou Version? Well, Roadhog sort of admired the idea behind it, so Jamison and I tinkered around with it. Perhaps you'd like to give it a shot?"

" _Would_ I?!" Lena shouted, happily, "What does it do?!"

Mei crossed her arms, "Well… It might be best if you try it first. I'd hate to make promises I can't keep; I mean, I don't even know if you can take that one o-"

"'Course I can!" Lena replied quickly, "Just in case it gets torn out or something, I'd like to figure out a way to retain existence even without it on, so I'll experiment sometimes."

Mei sighed, "Despite the fact that you might die? or, worse case scenario, make this entire base disappear into the eternal nether?"

Lena happily nodded repeatedly, which Mei couldn't exactly fault for being uncharacteristic, "Of course! I take the proper precautions!"

Well, alright," Mei shrugged as she turned to the door, "I know Dr. Zielger is getting helped by Fareeha, so you'll need all the help you can get. With this, and the element of surprise, I think her butt won't be the only thing getting kicked…"

She giggled alongside Lena, who managed a question through her laughter, "You really kicked her?!"

"How many times do you get invited to do that?" Mei replied, between bursts of giggles.

As they left the room, Reinhardt was crouched down as he returned, holding a toolbox around his arm, his lips pursed as he covered them up with a finger. The two ladies simply nodded in reply, covering their own mouths, before making their way off toward the coldest room on the base.


	2. Sparring

Despite walking into the gym with her hands up in the air like a prize fighter entering their match, there were only a handful of "spectators". It didn't matter much to Lena, though, who had taken the time to find a Union Jack to tie around her neck like a cape, spinning around as the cheers from Mei echoed in the small gymnasium.

Angela simply stood on the opposite end of the passed floor, trying to readjust her chin strap so that her headgear wasn't so uncomfortable. Somewhat content with that, she leaned down, yanking at her knee pads to accomplish the same goal as her chin strap, though as she straightened up again, her headgear had messed up again, so she returned to pulling it around her head.

It was truly a sight to behold between the two of them.

Fareeha finally walked up to her, undoing the strap and removing the helmet, "Okay, you know what, I think you've got this. Just…"

She didn't finish her sentence, leaving Angela with the slightest sense of dread, though it quickly vanished as she watched Lena kissing her flag before tossing it into the stands, right at Reinhardt, who simply examined the clothen banner curiously. Lena then began running in place to warm up, periodically falling into stretches while Angela simply stood there.

"Go Tracer!" Mei shouted happily, before turning to Angela, red-faced, "I still love you, Doctor!"

Angela eyed her sarcastically before beginning to run in place herself to warm up as Fareeha massaged her shoulders, leaning in to whisper into her ear, "Okay, just remember what we practiced. She's not afraid to fight dirty, so if it comes to that, you know what to do."

Angela nodded, but slowly turned her head back toward her, "Wait, the thing with the arms or the legs?"

"The thing with the deltoids," Fareeha clarified, "Works every time."

Angela nodded, turning back toward Lena, who was now doing "warping jacks", and jumped into a fighting stance, keeping her fists above her as she made her way toward her starting position. Lena followed suit, warping into her place as Reinhardt grabbed at the whistle around his neck.

"Alright ladies, I want a GOOD, CLEAN fight, alright?" the old man clarified simply, "If you both do that, we'll go get some dessert or something- everybody's a winner, alright? We'll crank up some Hoff, have a good time!"

He chopped the air in front of him, starting the match, leaving the two fighters to circle around, watching their opponant seriously, their eyes both narrowed. Suddenly, Lena stood up straight, holding her fists on her hips as she stared angrily behind Angela.

"Mei!" she shouted, pleadingly, "Come on, that's not a nice sign to put up!"

Angela quickly whipped around, but only found Mei sitting there, shocked at being called out in such a manner. Realizing her mistake, Angela's eyes grew wide, but in that second, Lena had made up ground, throwing a dastardly punch at the passed armor wrapped around Angela's chest, knocking her to the ground.

Mei stood and cheered as Fareeha dropped her head, rubbing her face in disdain. Lena began throwing her hands into the air in triumph, pumping up the crowd, which only really affected Mei, who began hopping up and down in excitement. She reached over and pulled Jamison to his feet as well, though he was more uncomfortable, being more new than the others.

Angela got back up to her feet, her face comforting in a serious manner as Lena continued rousing the crowd. In Lena's theatrics, Angela dashed up to her, throwing a punch at her passed chest, knocking her to the ground and sending her sliding, leaving Fareeha dismayed at the lack of skill parties.

Angela pounded her passed hands together, goading Lena as her eyes stared up at her, "Come on, Oxton; you wanna go?!"

Lena jumped up to her feet in an instant, the two finally resorting to a more traditional sort of match, though it was definitely slower than anything Fareeha would have expected for her own matches. Mei was still intensely into the who battle, however, wrapping her arms around Jamison and furiously shaking him as she watched, unable to contain her excitement.

Suddenly, becoming more and more upset that Angela was actually keeping up with her quite readily, Lena began warping during the fight, progressing more and more until she began flying at Angela at different angles, forcing her to quickly try and reorient her entire stance. Fareeha watched seriously, noticing Angela's back foot turning to its side in preparation for what she'd been instructed to do in such an occasion.

Certainly, the widest part of Lena's body was her shoulders, and with Angela's skillful eyes, she could somewhat make out her figure as it broke from and into space. As Lena popped from one side to the other, Angela managed to reach up into the air, her hands already prepared to grab her even before she appeared. In an instant, Angela pulled all her weight onto her back foot, yanking Lena's body down onto the ground, almost pinning her as she fell atop of her, holding her shoulders against the ground.

Fareeha pumped her fist in the air in triumph, "Yes!"

Angela grinned down at Lena, who returned an unamused stare, "Sorry Oxton, but you just have to know who's boss around here."

Lena pulled her lips to the side in a sneer as she suddenly vanished, leaving Angela to suddenly fall onto the floor with a start, her eyes wide in surprise as she quickly scrambled to her feet, turning around. Though, to her horror, Lena was nowhere to be found. She quickly darted her head back and forth, turning her body as everybody in attendance, save for Mei, showed an equal amount of shock.

Lena could only teleport a few feet at a time, but she couldn't remain in that spacetime she was flowing through- she couldn't stay invisible, nor could she have left the room unnoticed. Angela kept her eyes on the lookout as she held her brave face, but within her, her mind was racing with questions and her heart pumped quicker with unknown anticipation.

Suddenly, a jarring slam came to her back, knocking her forward, but before she could fall to the mat, an invisible forced knocked her backward, her body falling and then slamming into the mat just as Lena appeared again, quickly wrapping herself around Angela's limbs to keep her pinned down.

Angela grunted as Lena kept her subdued, but the pilot simply snickered, "Call me boss!"

Refusing, Angela continued trying to free herself, but found herself unable to, instead looking up toward Reinhardt, "Uh, ref?"

He only shrugged, "Nobody mentioned warping out of a pin in the rules."

Angela sighed, rolling her eyes as she stared up at Lena's body atop of her, a prominent frown across her face as gave a final few struggles, finally groaning in defeat. She took.a breath, her breath building up as her words began to roll off her tongue, prepared to-

"What is going on here?!"

A loud female voice burst into the room as everybody turned as quick as they could, particularly Reinhardt and Fareeha, whose bodies immediately bolted in the proper direction, though Fareeha's had a light sense of dread attached to it. Ana Amari walked into the room, eyeing Angela on the ground with Lena, upside down, sprawled over her.

"Am I interrupting something?" she questioned, more curious than anything.

Reinhardt burst into a laugh, patting his stomach jovially, "NO, NO! We're just enjoying a little sparring match, my dear!"

Ana's curiosity turned into skepticism, "This isn't any sort of resolution I've ever seen in a sparring match."

Fareeha scratched the back of her head, "Well, uh, neither of them were particularly experienced, so they both sort of, er, winged it."

Groaning aloud, Ana ran two fingers up either side of her nose, exasperatingly, "Well, as long as Jack is away, I do hold superiority. Up, you two; let's clean this mess up."

"B-But-!" Lena shouted in protest, "She needs to call me boss!"

"The only boss here is me, now," Ana reminded, a slight grin showing up on her face, "Now up!"

Lena groaned, rolling off of Angela, who lankily rose to her feet, rubbing her arm which had been caught between both of their bodies, leaving it slightly numb. They stood beside one another as Ana shook her head as she approached Reinhardt.

"Alright, just a quick status report," Ana began, "Lena, you are to report to the dock and begin preparations for traveling to the Southwest United States."

"It was approved?!" she replied, shocked, "Sweet! I'll do my best, captain!"

Ana nodded before continuing, "Good. Also, Mr. Shimada will be visiting later today, so if you'd like to stick around, you'll have to finagle something with Winston."

"Genji?!" Angela shouted in shock, "What's he doing back? He's not due back for a few more months!"

Ana shrugged, "He was with Jesse in Blackwatch for a time, right? Maybe Winston just wants to have a chat. I may be in charge at the moment, but even I-"

She scowled at the smarmy grin that shone over Lena, her bright voice speaking up, "I thought the only boss here was-"

"Oh, hush," Ana sighed, turning to Reinhardt, "These children, I swear…"

Reinhardt chuckled warmly, quickly waving Lena off before wrapping a massive arm around his lady, "Now, now, my sweet adenium."

Ana smiled lightly at Reinhardt's grip, but suddenly shouted aloud as she saw her daughter across the room, "Fareeha!"

"Y-Yes ma'am!" she shouted, instinctively.

Ana eyed her for a moment before nodding, "I read the report. Good work down there; you have promise."

Almost lost in amazement, Fareeha just barely managed to speak back up, "O-Oh, th-thank you."

Her mother nodded once more before she and Reinhardt turned around, back to the door, leaving the others alone as Angela covered her mouth, holding in her excitement, "Oh my god, Genji's coming back already!"

Jamison cleared his throat, "Y'know, for all us new folk, uh… Who is this Genji fella?"

"I'd like to know, too," Fareeha noted, curiously.

Mei rustled in her seat, "Oh, he's awesome! He's a cyborg ninja, so he's all "pew pew pew!" with his shuriken, and he had a sword with a laser running through it, and he's super funny too, and- and-…"

"Cyborg ninja, eh?" Jamison pondered, "Hmm… Sounds like somethin' I'd be if I ever ended up blowin' my body to bits!"

"Oh, he didn't blow himself up," Mei clarified, "See, his brother left him for dead down in-"

She suddenly noticed Angela's face darken as the doctor's face lowered toward the ground, leaving Mei to quickly adjust the topic, "A-Anyway, he's really cool. He shows up periodically to get his body checked out. Dr. Ziegler was the one who saved his life, so he's sort of in her debt."

She cleared her throat, looking away in feigned humility, "-even if she didn't build the cybernetics…"

Fareeha watched her lover's anguished face, her own face showing sorrow in empathy. She couldn't see it, but in Angela's mind, she ran through that night all over again, on Mei's inadvertent reminder. She saw nothing, now, but rain, darkness- a hell on Earth she never wanted to see again.

Fareeha walked up to her slowly, resting a hand on her shoulder, which seemed to surprise her as her face shot up toward her, "You okay?"

"Oh, sorry," Angela muttered, "I was just- Oh, Fareeha, you're gonna love him too! Just wait!"


	3. Drills

Ana gloomily stared out the window of her room, arms crossed, thinking quietly as Reinhardt pushed the door closed with his foot, his arms fully loaded with what few pieces of luggage that the two had brought with them. They were to return to active duty, now that their time off had expired- spent mostly together in Egypt- and with Overwatch HQ still being considered for reconstruction in Switzerland, Gibraltar served as a de facto headquarters for everyone.

Still, Ana had had a lot on her mind since the two had shown up and she'd confronted the younger agents fighting in the gym, her daughter being a participant no less. The older woman's lips grimaced in a particularly undesirable thought, but she turned around with a relieving sigh as she walked toward the bed to help the large crusader unpack their belongings.

"Ah ha!" Reinhardt shouted gleefully, pulling out a small bust of some ancient Roman general whom he'd admired since childhood, "Wouldn't be home without my bronze!"

He chuckled as he placed it on top of a nearby dresser, turning back just as Ana was quietly removing stacks of clothing from her suitcase, organizing it atop the bed. Reinhardt mumbled affectionate as he approached her, wrapping a massive arm around her body and pulling her into his body as he approached her.

"Now, now; what ails you, my adenium? My bones may be failing me, but my eyes certainly are not. I can see your sadness, and I would not be such a man as to see you like this and leave you be!" he spoke up in clunky eloquence.

Ana sighed, leaning her head against his broad chest, speaking wistfully, "Why did we come back to this?"

Reinhardt thought for a moment, though wasn't sure of how serious the question was, "Well, uh… I mean, we received the recall signal. I figured you were excited to fight alongside your daughter for peace; I know I've long relished the idea of seeing the daughter of Amari controlling the battlefield!"

His body shook triumphantly, though his words only led to a soft groan from Ana, who looked up toward him, "I know, but… Shouldn't we be leaving this to them?"

"Them?" Reinhardt wondered aloud, though quickly realized the source of his lover's concern, hurrying to pull her closer into a hug, "Now listen here, Amari; I remember the very first day we all assembled for the very first meeting of Overwatch, and an angel named Ana Amari walked in, looking like the whole room belonged to her. Every day I laid my eyes on you, you've only grown more beautiful, and no matter how grey your hair gets, no matter how many wrinkles, no matter how many eyes you have, for that matter-"

He grinned, holding her tighter, "You still only grow more strong, more beautiful, more resilient. These kids, they don't know their way from a hole in the ground- the only thing keeping any of them in alive and in line are us old timers, so don't think you're being outgrown at all; you're the only thing between order and chaos around here. You saw how they had resorted to turning on one another until you popped in!"

"Weren't you a spectator?" Ana asked, dryly, giving Reinhardt a nervous stare out the window.

She sighed, enjoying the large embrace of her lover, "I suppose you're right, though."

"That's my lieutenant," Reinhardt smiled approvingly, pulling away as he returned to organizing their things.

Ana did much the same, albeit still quietly. Her slow movements meant she was still thinking on something, despite Reinhardt's kind words, though she picked up her pace slightly, if only to convey that he had, indeed, cheered her up, not wanting him to feel a lack of worth.

"Did you remember to bring your picture frame?" Reinhardt asked, trying to change the subject.

"Oh. Yeah, of course," Ana answered, pulling over another bag and pulling out a digital frame, turning it on so the dark screen suddenly lit up with a picture of herself and Fareeha when she was younger, "And I remembered my hair beads as well. Oh, and your cologne, since I knew you'd forget that."

She grinned as she rummaged through her backpack, pausing as she stared deeply into the leather sack, pulling out a finely silken hair ribbon, "Well, I never figured this would see this place again."

Reinhardt chuckled heartily at the sigh, "You still have that thing, eh?"

"Well, somebody I cared very much about once said that, if I were to be a killer, it wouldn't hurt to be beautiful at the same time."

"You're totally paraphrasing," Reinhardt answered with a groan, a knock on the door causing him to turn away, "Oh, and Dr. Ziegler is here for a quick, informal exam."

Ana nodded, hurriedly burying the ribbon back into her bag as the door opened to reveal Angela standing there, her face lost in a clipboard as her hand clutched a pen that rested against her lips as she thought, her eyes suddenly jumping up as she noticed Reinhardt standing there, having materialized in place of the door.

"Wilhelm," she muttered, bluntly.

"Ziegler."

"How many joints will I have to adjust today?"

Wilhelm suddenly laughed, exiting their faux-confrontational dialogue, giving even Angela a chance to smile as he went on, "I've been a good boy! Promise! I may let slip a fib or two, but my joints do not partake in such things!"

He stretched out his arms, almost making his chest appear to expand as he flexed easily, twisting his torso freely as he did, a grin crossing his face, "See?"

"Good," Angela spoke up, evenly, "Now quit it before you turn your joints into liars. Like I said, this is very informal; it's more of an excuse to come by and say hello to my teddy bear."

Reinhardt fawned over the doctor, giving her a warm hug, "Aww, you flatter me too greatly, my dear."

Angela's eyes caught Ana's, whose stare was rather piercing, "That's much more than I'm sure I'll be able to say about the good doctor."

She managed a quick smile as Angela rolled her eyes, pulling away from the large man, "Oh, hush. I need to offer you three compliments to break my record, and I intend to do so, if only because Fareeha offered me another trip up the mountain were I to do so. SO!"

She ended with a shout before inhaling deeply, as if having to prepare mightily, "Your choice of clothing is very eclectic."

Ana critiqued her through a stare, "Was that a compliment?"

Groaning, Angela dropped her shoulders as she approached the sniper, "Fine, fine; still at zero. Just let me-"

Ana recoiled as Angela reached up toward her face, the matriarch staring back at the doctor in shock, "Wh-What are you doing?!"

Angela watched her, confused,"…I'm giving you an informal exam?"

Anna rushed a finger toward Reinhardt, "You gave HIM a hug!"

The doctor nodded, "And I checked his ribs as I did so. What, should I give you a facial while I examine your eyes?"

Ana sighed heavily, looking away, "…fine, just- Make it quick."

Reinhardt looked on, worriedly, though also with a curiosity as Angela reached up to pull away the dark piece that covered Ana's right eye or, at least, where her eye had been. Ana wore a sort of scowl the entire time, even Reinhardt knowing for years how difficult it was for the woman to show any sort of weakness. Angela understood as well, trying to be as professional and quick as she could, carefully returning the eye patch back across that empty cavity in her face.

"No infections; nothing that looks bad," Angela noted, plainly, "You haven't been on a major assignment since that incident; how is your sight?"

"Perfect," Ana replied dryly, already tired of being interrogated by a junior, even if it was the partner of her daughter.

Angela watched her suspiciously, "You know I'm only asking for your own-"

"It's perfect," Ana interrupted, roughly.

Angela continued to eye her suspiciously, though decided to end the impromptu exam anyway, pulling her clipboard to her chest, "Then you won't have any problem with your assigned training regiment to see where everybody is since last we were together."

Angela turned around smoothly, heading to the door, "I'll make sure to schedule you in before Torby arrives. I wouldn't want you to be distracted."

Ana found it difficult to hold her tongue, but ultimately did so, exhaling a groan as the door shut behind the doctor, her arms clawing at her scalp, frustrated, "I swear to god, that girl…"

Quickly, Reinhardt took to her side, gently patting her shoulder, "Now now, she really is only-"

"I _know_ she's only looking out for me," Ana growled, bowing her head, eyes closed, as she punched herself in the leg as if in penance, "But this time she's going to win."

"What?"

She groaned, looking up toward the light of her life's face, "Sweetheart, my vision's been going for months now. I wouldn't expect Ziegler to realize that herself, but it will indeed show out on the shooting range. My technique is all off without my eye as well; basically, I'm screwed as far as sharpshooting goes."

"Ahh," Reinhardt mused, lightly, smiling as he took Ana into a hug, "No wonder you're so insecure about all these young people. So worried that they're taking your place. But I must tell you, there is nowhere else in this lion's heart for anyone _but_ you, my dear."

Ana eyed him, unamusedly, "That makes two things I only allow you to talk to me about- love and my insecurities."

Reinhardt smiled, warmly, giving a soft hum from within him, only comforting Ana further with the gentle vibration and heat from him, his voice suddenly emerging again, curiously, "Why was she so specific about Torb, anyway?"

"Because," Ana smirked, "He'd help me cheat. We old hags have to stick together. Uh, to borrow Dr. Ziegler's own words, that is."

* * *

A loud buzzer rang out across the shooting range as a paper target began zooming down the lines, coming to a stop at a lengthy distance from Ana Amari, her stare peering farther than even the target, as if she were peering past the very wall behind it. She stood in one of the stalls, slowly lowing her head as she fiddled with her rifle, seriously, making sure each mechanism was perfect.

Above her, through a large pane of glass, stood Reinhardt and Angela, watching her from the control room as Winston playfully jerked his head back in forth in time with the music playing in the background. His fingers rapidly shot across his keyboard, eyeing the two guests as he calculated.

"How's she looking?"

Angela turned to Reinhardt, biting her lip, while he waved her off with a smile, "Go on. I'm an adult, you know."

The doctor sighed, turning to Winston, "Uh, I'm concerned about her sight, her physical capabilities. I mean, normally, that wouldn't be an issue, but if she has issues with her sight, she'd be expected to run around more than she's ever been accustomed to."

Winston nodded, "Understood. Hopefully this test will shed some light on the situation. God knows I don't want to have to tell her to take a step back."

He shivered uncontrollably at the thought, quickly returning to his computer as his eyes peered up toward the monitor which looked down on the sniper. She was done with assembling her rifle, now shoving the clip of ammunition into the device, kneeling down as she propped herself up on the small counter of the stall. She shoved the butt of the gun into her right shoulder, lowing her head toward the scope, suddenly pausing as she did so.

"Oh, fuck," Angela muttered, realizing that she'd forgotten that she was right handed.

Ana remained still for a moment, as if just now realizing, herself, that her right eye was non-existent now. She shut her eye, praying that there wasn't a camera to catch her as her tongue slipped across her lips, nervously. Upon reopening, her head tilted further away, dipping her shoulders lower so that her left eye could stare down the scope, albeit while shooting as far left as it could out of her skull.

Reinhardt nodded supportingly as he watched her, Ana's tenacity being one of the things that first brought him to admire her. He slowly leaned to his side, toward Angela, asking with a quiet, confident voice.

"Think she can do it?"

Angela shrugged, "We'll check the targets."

Suddenly, a loud *BOOM* broke the air, followed immediately by Ana shooting up to her feet, grasping her rifle with both hands and raising it above her head, suddenly slamming it into the counter with a massive *CRASH*. She leaned over the wooden counter, her hands still grasping the rifle, the weight of her body crushing her fingers between the weapon and counter as punishment.

She reached up, grabbing at her eye patch and pulling it down her face so that it hung only around her neck as her head dangled before her, the lightest bit of tears falling from her face as her teeth clenched in frustration.

"Wide right," Winston noted, sadly, respectfully turning away from the monitor, "Angela?"

The doctor didn't take her eyes off of her, though she remained silent as her eyes narrowed, seriously, as Reinhardt spoke up, "Poor thing…"

Angela shook her head at his statement, tossing her clipboard to the floor as she crossed her arms, "No, let her go again."

Winston eyed the monitor, "Angela, she's not going to go-"

"She will," she interrupted, unwaveringly, as her eyes shrunk even further, "…she will."

The three watched Ana as she remained standing there, finally releasing her grip from the rifle. It made the last bit of distance to the counter with a small thud as Ana ran her hands through her hair, sighing deeply as her eyes caught the target down the length of the range. Her depth perception was shot, she knew, though as long as it was through the scope, she had always thought, it wouldn't have mattered- she always used a single eye anyway. Just the other one.

She slowly dropped down to one knee again, grasping her rifle and digging it, once again, into her right shoulder. Her head lowered, tilted; her eye ran as far to the left as it could out of its socket, her head adjusting just enough to give her some more clearance down the length of the scope. Her lips pursed in anger as they crushed together, her breath suddenly shooting inward as her finger slammed backward against the trigger, a massive *BANG* cracking through the air.

Reinhardt turned toward Winston, his face suddenly sinking as a frown appeared, his head shaking slowly, "That's the way it goes, I guess."

Angela stared down toward Ana, who had slowly risen to her feet, grasping at her rifle before tossing it to the ground as if disowning it. She turned toward the after-action room, her gait as normal as ever, as if nothing was wrong. Even without being down there with her, Angela knew that her insides were tearing apart at the result.

"It was closer that time," Winston noted, "Perhaps if she keeps at it. Just by watching, I can tell it's not easy."

Ana disappeared into the chamber, the door closing behind her, obscuring her to everyone, save for a monitor above that showed her sitting down, holding her hands over her head as it hung low between her knees.

"I'll go get her," Angela volunteered, patting Reinhardt's shoulder, "Don't worry; I'll go easy on her."

Reinhardt only gave a weak smile.

* * *

Ana wanted to crawl into a hole at that point. Well, considering the doctor who was evaluating her, she more wanted to crawl into the arms of her man, but she knew that was a tall order. As soon as those doors opened, she figured Angela would be on the other side, already, prepared to give her some seethingly sarcastic quip or something- anything to stick a verbal dagger into her after _that_ performance.

Sure enough, she didn't even to raise her head. As soon as the door opened, she say the silhouette of Angela stretching across the floor as the doctor stood at the door, frowning sadly as she watched the older woman sitting there as if wholly lost. She carefully made her way into the room, over toward Ana, though slowly stopped to ask.

"Do I, uh, sit beside you, or..?" she wondered aloud, nervously.

Ana's finger jutted out toward the bench across from her, which gave Angela as nod, "Gotcha."

She sat across from her, grasping her hands together as she'd left her clipboard behind. She watched Ana's head, defeated, as it surrendered to the very gravity that surrounded her. Her lips pulled inward as she thought of what to say, though Ana was the first to speak up, surprisingly.

"I didn't want to come back," she muttered, ashamedly, "I knew this would happen, but… That poor man; I knew it would break his heart."

She sighed, shaking her head, "I spent so many years living with only my daughter in mind; I forgot how it was to do the same for somebody who isn't your own blood. It's easy if you love them, but damn, does it ever sting sometimes."

Angela lowered her head, respectfully, as Ana pressed onward, "I shouldn't be here."

Slowly, Angela pushed herself up to her feet, spinning around as she backed toward Ana, sitting beside her, allowing the sniper a rather pithy attempt at speaking up, "And _you_ shouldn't be here, beside me."

"Oh hush," Angela muttered, scolding, though she gave the woman a soft pat atop the shoulder, "Look, I understand what you're saying, but you're not as helpless as you make it seem. If you were, you wouldn't have taken that second shot."

Ana remained silent as Angela sighed, reloading her thoughts, "I get that you feel like you can't contribute anything, but even if your skills with the rifle were no longer with you, which, by the way, I don't think is true, you have far more to contribute than you think."

"Look," Angela repeated, slowly, "I didn't want to come back either. Granted, it wasn't because I was too old and senile, with zero taste in doctors, but I felt as though it was worthless to be here. After all, as you reminded me so very often, what good is a person who won't fire a gun in an organization where guns are one of its languages? And look, I'm not saying to force yourself to be here if it's going to be miserable, but…maybe give it a week. I did, and I-"

"Got with my daughter," Ana muttered, glibly, looking up toward Angela with a sidelong glare, "Yes, I remember."

Angela groaned, "Hey, you already got that out of the way, even! You have Reinhardt! If not for me, which I know it a moot point, then for him, okay? For your daughter, too; I know she loves having you here when you're not drilling her on push-ups."

Ana groaned, leaning back in her seat, "Alright, Ziegler. One week. If my body is still as decrepit, I'm on my first flight back to Palookaville; no question."

Angela raised her hands in the air, innocently, "That's all I'm asking."

Frowning, Ana eyed Angela skeptically, "Why the interest? This is quite the attempt at flying above your station, Ziegler; just because of my daughter."

Angela shrugged, "Contrary to your old mind's belief, I don't actually hate you, you know."

She reached down into her shirt, pulling out a necklace, running her fingers down the links before grasping the small symbol at its bottom, pulling it up for the two to see, her voice appearing, sarcastically, "'Protection in peace'. 'Peace', you say? Why, that was one of those ideas that Ziegler bitch was constantly spouting off about!"

Ana smirked at the doctor's attitude, "Well, you got me. Not the only reason I wasn't exactly thrilled that you were with my daughter, but it was pretty high up there."

Angela gave her a friendly pat on the back as she smiled, "Don't worry; I'll shoot a gun or something to make it up to you, I suppose. I kind of like the idea of running around, pell-mell, worrying more about raising more hell than allies."

"Even I know that doesn't suit you," Ana shook her head, disappointingly.


	4. Genji's Return

Lena threw her hands across a switchboard as a small aircraft landed into the hangar, slowly touching down as she whizzed her hand across a bevy of buttons, the ceiling beginning to close as she wiped her hands off on each other, grinning widely toward Winston. He nodded approvingly as the vertical plane hit the ground, the engines churning to a stop as it sat there, Lena excitedly hopping over toward the others.

"Wow, wow, wow; Genji's here!" she spoke up, excitedly, earning Fareeha's worried glance, "Oh, Pharah, you've got to let him show you how he carves pumpkins! He balances it on his sword, tossing it into the air, before-!"

She excitedly threw her arms in the air wildly, her face contorted as she made whooshing sounds, finally coming to a stop, "He carved Rick Allen into mine last year! Kind of appropriate, you think?"

"I suppose?" Fareeha answered, confused, turning to Angela, who wore a bright, nostalgic smile as she watched the door of the plane open, a green-haired head popping out from within.

"This is my stop, right?" he asked, innocently.

"Of course, dummy!" Lena shouted before warping over toward him, giving him a massive hug before he could even step onto the retractable steps that led to the ground, "C'mon! Say it!"

He nervously furrowed his brow, "Uh, the cavalry-"

"Pfft!" Lena couldn't withhold her laughter, her arms wrapping around her stomach as she keeled over, bursting into amusement, "I-I'm sorry! You're just too cool to be saying that!"

"Nice seeing you too, Tracer," he concluded, warmly, before stepping out onto the stairs, Lena warping along back to the others.

Fareeha's eyes widened as she caught her first glimpse of the man, shocked by what she was seeing. She had known his situation, but she hadn't ever seen a picture or anything; the idea of a man who was more machine than skin simply a thought in her head. Seeing him, though, she was taken aback.

His entire body was laced with metallic plating and armor, leaving only his head intact, and even then, his neck was a sort of amalgamation of skin and metal. She did her best to hide a cringe at the sight, knowing it would have been immensely rude, though her eyes focus on his face as best they could.

He smiled brightly as he approached the lineup up hosts, walking first toward Winston, "Gorilla."

"Macintosh."

Genji grinned as he offered a hand, which Winston happily accepted, "Recall keeping you busy?"

"Eh, not too much," Winston shrugged, "It's worth it to be seeing everybody again. Jack will be here at some point, along with some others. You have the honor of being one of the earliest."

Genji reached up, grasping his shoulder, "Yeah, Tracer's grip should soften as the excitement wears down from more and more arrivals."

Lena glared at him, unamused, though he only gave a silent chuckle before moving along, to Fareeha. He examined her head to toe, his eyes shrinking as he stared at her face, his eyes pulling toward her tattoo.

"I'd know that face anywhere," he smirked, admiringly, "You must be Ana's daughter."

"Y-Yes sir," Fareeha answered, nervously, not expecting to have been addressed in that way.

Genji laughed, "Oh please, no formalities. I had enough of that growing up; and from what I know of your mother, I'm sure you did as well."

Fareeha nodded carefully as he reached a fist up into the air, allowing her to bump her own fist against his as he happily nodded toward her, "I look forward to seeing what you can do."

Fareeha returned a nod, lowering her face nervously as he walked along. He did, indeed, look cool, and acted cool as well. She shivered at the thought, however, of his body. What exactly had happened to it. She had questioned Angela about it once before, but she'd plainly refused.

"Angela-hakase," Genji spoke up, yanking Fareeha from her train of thought as her head whipped to the side.

He had her hand clasped between both of his, bowing his head to her as the two shared a moment of silence, with Angela smiling rather bitterly as her head was also bowed. Fareeha watched them curiously, though a red flash grew across her face once Genji lifted his head, bringing Amgela's hand up to his face for a kiss, steam nearly blowing from the Egyptian's ears.

"Everything working okay?" Angela questioned lightly, smiling.

Genji nodded, "As far as I can tell. I'll assume that, with the recall, Winston might want some tweaks to be made, though?"

Winston nodded, "Yes; Angela actually mentioned some possible upgrades."

"Mei has a friend now, so she's been cooking up some crazy schemes," Angela mentioned, suddenly pausing, "I mean, _ideas_. of course."

Genji looked at her, almost worriedly, though Angela happily pulled his arm down, excitedly pulling him toward the main doors of the hanger, "But enough about that for now! I can't wait to see you in action down in the range!"

"Eh, I might need some rest," he answered, shakily, as he was pulled, "It _was_ a long trip, after all."

Fareeha frowned as she crossed her arms, her brows furrowing sadly as she watched Angela drag him off into the next room as the others followed along. She sighed, lowering her head as she began walking along in the same direction, her hands brushing up and down her arms. They'd become so cold all of a sudden.

* * *

Fareeha leaned her back against the far wall of the control room, arms crosses, as she stared, darkly, at Angela, who stood in front of the same large pane of glass that overlooked the training ground. Her lips twisted in her silently jealous musing, her finger even tapping at her arm in order to exert some sort of the energy that had pent up within her.

Angela turned to Winston, speaking to him before returning her attention to the training area, with Fareeha much too far gone to care for listening to whatever was being spoken. Her eyes jerked toward the monitor that showed Genji down in the pit, the training ground having replaced the shooting range from earlier with a labyrinthine collection of walls and towers for a ninja such as Genji to jump from.

Winston eyed the monitor, confused, leaning toward Angela as he spoke up, quietly, "Uh, what's he doing?"

"Meditating," Angela answered, tilting toward the large window to get a better look, "He said he found himself. Well, he found a spiritual guide, _then_ found himself."

Winston's face dropped, "He didn't pay beforehand, did he?"

Angela gave him a wry smirk, though Lena was quick to speak up, "Hey, now. There are some things that can't be learned by perusing data or textbooks."

Winston shrugged, "Hey, I'm not knocking it. Meditation is, indeed, a legitimate means of relaxation and focus. I'm rather curious about how much it could affect him. In fact…"

He switched on the intercom, clearing his throat before speaking into the training ground, loudly, "Hey, uh, Genji. Sorry to interrupt, but- How high were you wanting the set-"

"Max."

Winston pulled his hand from the button, shutting off the speaker as he turned to Angela, who shrugged back at him, "You heard the man."

Sighing, he shook his head, flipping a few knobs as Lena spoke up, "Vitals are stable. Far lower than what they used to be, even."

"Well, let's hope that his luck has _increased_ ," Winston groaned, flipping a final switch before a loud buzzer rang out through the base.

Genji remained kneeling, his legs outstretched as his knees dug into the dirt below, his ankles twisted atop one another as his head hung low, his hand slowly reaching for the sword just in front of him. His head was soon encompassed by a mask, which materialized from his neck, fusing with his skin as he stood, breathing deeply as he heard the tell-tale stomping of footsteps.

Winston and Angela both nodded approvingly as the man quickly dispatched the robots, hopping from platform to platform, like a zephyrous wind, dashing around faster than even the bot's joints could take them as their heads attempted to keep up.

"Hasn't missed a beat," Winston appraised, happily.

Lena nodded, leaning in toward her own monitor, "You said it. I haven't seen vitals this even in the heat of combat since Pharah first showed up."

Fareeha ducked her head low as her code name was invoked, trying to hide her being upset in case somebody were to turn toward her. Below their level, Genji skillfully took out the last of the training bots, barely huffing in breaths as he stood up, staring up toward the large pane of glass as he hung his limbs, disappointed.

"Is that all you have?" he asked, sincerely dismayed at the thought.

Winston looked around his desk for nothing in particular before he replied, "Well, uh…no. I mean, I could program them differently, but even then, with the stuff they're made out of, there's not a terrible amount we could do to enhance your-"

"I'll go in there," came the voice of Fareeha as she straightened up to her feet, arms still crossed.

The three whipped around toward her, watching her, surprised, before Genji's voice came out over the speakers, "Was that Amari? That would be an exciting proposition! Winston?"

"I-er, you don't need _my_ permission!" he replied, hurriedly, "Uh, Fareeha, if you want, your Raptora is in the locker room."

"Thanks," Fareeha answered, stepping out of the room without a glance toward Angela.

The doctor glared at her as she left, curiously, as if able to tell that something was up, though the reason eluded her until Lena muttered, excitedly, "Ooooooh! Someone's jealous!"

"J-Jealous?" Angela shot back, thinking Lena had referred to _her_.

Lena smirked, "I know that look Fareeha had. It's the same one I get when the train attendant tries to keep Em and me from the doors when they open."

"I think that's just for your safe-"

"I give that sort of brooding stare and pull my Emmy into my arms, like I'm making sure they know she's mine. She says she hates when I'm presumptuous like that, but I know she doesn't pull away when I do it," Lena concluded, giggling.

Angela turned toward the door that Fareeha had left through, confused. Was Lena on to something? Certainly not; granted, Genji was rather hands on when the two reacquainted earlier, but he was always like that with her. After all, she'd been the one who-

She shut her eyes, groaning to herself, recalling that she hadn't told Fareeha about it yet. As far as she knew, he was making a pass at her, but could she really be that stupid?

"Not stupid," Angela though to herself, rubbing her face with her hand, "But impulsive? Definitely."

She just opened her eyes slightly as a soft beep went off, signaling Fareeha's entry into the training ground. She stared at her, slightly upset herself, now, as Fareeha flexed her knuckles in either hand as she stood on the high platform that overlooked the dirt floor. Genji turned to face her, hanging his sword behind his back before his back plate magnetized, holding it in place as his hand left the weapon.

"Amari," he spoke up in acknowledgement.

Fareeha frowned, "That's my mother. Please, just 'Fareeha'."

"Fareeha, then," Genji replied with a tone that could be interpreted as being alongside a smile, his mask covering all trace of emotion from his face, "Please, fight me like you would any opponant. I'm very excited to see how similar your style is to your mo-"

Suddenly, Fareeha blasted into the air at a blistering speed, hanging far up in the air as she stared down at her adversary, particularly his sword, which made up only a percentage of the distance between them. Genji shook his head, grinning beneath his armored mask.

"Okay, let's go with 'not at all', then."

Pharah whipped out her cannon, blast a shot straight at Genji's feet, forcing him to leap away, though Pharah had already anticipated such a thing, launching rockets at the three areas he was likeliest to jump to. As he caught his feet, he was met with a rocket, though quickly slammed his sword across his front , sliding the explosive in half as his arm flew into his chest, finishing his slice.

His eyes narrowed as Pharah's massive body flew into him, knocking him through the air and slamming him into the wall while Pharah managed her footing, her rocket launcher falling gracefully into her arms. A loud banging came from the pane of glass above as Angela pounded at the window, angrily.

"Hey!" she shouted, angrily, "If you hurt him, I'll-!"

Genji pounced to his feet, and in a immediately cutting of the air, his body burst forward and around to Pharah's back, his limbs wrapping around her before throwing his neck backward, pulling the two of them backward into the ground, though he skillfully spun around her body, finally bringing his feet back into a recoil before launching them into her back, sending her flying off of the platform, falling face first into the dirt.

Angela's hand clasped into a fist against the window as she watched Fareeha lying there, her teeth clutching at her lips in suspense, even though she knew this was merely an exhibition match of sorts.

Genji wiped his hands as he jumped to the ground, approaching the still body, "For one with such a one-dimensional set of movements, I'm surprised with how creative you've gotten, I must say. Surely you have some more tricks up your-"

Instantly, Pharah's body flew up from the ground, anchored at her feet, pulling her up before her feet detached, sending her backside straight into Genji, the vents across her chest exploding in a thrust that sent the two of them flying, straight into the wall of the arena with a smashing force, so much so that Pharah had lost feeling in her legs. She managed to push herself out of the crater that had made in the wall, staggered, as she turned to find nobody there.

She immediately spun around, her eyes up in the air, completely ignoring the crater. From within the darkness, a green 'V' suddenly shone through, Genji pouncing out of the crumbling wall before knocking Pharah forward, whipping his sword our and smashing at her, rapidly, her arms desperately trying to keep up as she blocked the blows from her visor.

Finally, she managed a hand around her back, swinging her rocket launcher toward her opponant, who quickly leapt backward to avoid the blow, though as Pharah aimed her weapon, Genji landed with a thud, crouched down, hand against the ground, prepared to evade her shot. She paused for a moment before firing a round before blasting off into the air, eying Genji has he jumped away, though her fist hurried to follow him, firing a concussive blast to the ground where Genji was headed, knocking him back into the air. Unable to influence his trajectory, and with Pharah dictating his direction from the blast, she whipped her gun up, firing a blast right where was Genji was headed, the two objects meeting with a massive CRASH.

Pharah landed gracefully, making sure to have her launcher properly secured at her back before slowly approaching the new crater in the ground. Suddenly, her eyes drew wide as she saw the damage. She knelt down, worriedly, finding Genji's leg to be completely shattered into metallic bits, along with his arm being torn from him and a massive crater across his torso.

"Oh, f-"

"GENJI!" Angela shouted, running out onto the arena floor toward the two, in a mad dash.

Fareeha looked on in horror as Angela fell to her knees, coming to a sliding stop at Genji's side, her worried look slowly becoming more angry as she gave the shredded body a cursory look. She stood up, slowly, like a serpent unwinding from its coil, her head turning to stare at Fareeha, whose horrified look turning into an oblivious expression.

"Why?!" Angela shouted loudly, "Because you're jealous?!"

Fareeha raised her hands in innocence, "I-I-"

Angela stomped over toward her, her voice quieting down, though that only made her snarl that much more heated, "Whose bed do I crawl into at night?!"

Fareeha frowned, disappointedly, turning away, "…mine."

Nodding seriously, Angela made it up to her, suddenly pushing her backward as her open hands shot at the soldier's chest, "And whose shoulders do I surround myself with?!"

She shoved Fareeha backward again, though she barely sustained much of anything beyond the force of the push, her face simply falling, "…mine."

"Damn right!" Angela shouted, "And who's the only person I ever hit because they just upset me so much sometimes, but I do it anyway because I know that, no matter how often I do it, she'll still love me despite how difficult it is all the time?!"

Fareeha sighed, frowning, "Me."

Angela nodded, her barely-contained shouts having calmed her down. She dropped her head, reaching up to ahold of the cleft of Fareeha's armor that served as a sort of collar, pulling her down so that her head could rest against hers, as if punishing her.

"What am I going to do with you…" Angela mumbled, hiding a slight smile with her downturned head.

Fareeha's eyes jumped upward, "Uh, maybe help him into a medical room or something?"

"Medical… Oh, he's fine," Angela shrugged as she pulled away, half-turning toward Genji, whose arm lifted up from the hole in the ground, giving a thumbs up.

His voice was heard, alongside a chuckle, "In my state, sweet nothings do the heart good. At least, what's left of it, anyway."

Angela smiled lightly, "We have newer equipment for him anyway; I was just worried you had injured something organic. No harm done, though, my heart is a bit bruised. To think that you wouldn't trust me? How loose do you think I am?"

Fareeha rolled her eyes with a shake of the head, though Angela quickly blushed, D-Don't answer that; I know what you're going to answer. It isn't something I need everybody and their mother hearing later."

That was Fareeha's cue to blush, her eyes rushing up to examine the pane of glass, just in case her mother had joined in at some point, leaving her with only a relieved sigh.


	5. Departure

**_A/N: Next month is NaNoWriMo! So I'll be taking a break from my fan-fiction to work on a particular story of my own, which I've heavily neglected for the last few years, so I figured it would be appropriate to allocate an entire month to, hopefully, write it up! You can find it over on my Fictionpress, if you're interested in what I have over there, though my first draft is a whole lot more story than is on there; it's titled 'The Kids're Alright', which is a title I may stick with during rewriting- I'll probably delete the chapters over there once I've begun writing._**

 ** _I've heard from a few people how disconnected they can feel to original characters, so I can totally see how that expands to original stories as a whole, so you're under no obligation to follow along that story; I simply wanted to let you all know why my fan-fiction will be slowing to a crawl for the month of November :p_**

* * *

Genji couldn't help but tense his lips as he laid atop the medical table, only a head attached to something that could be described as a torso, an arm, and that was pretty much it. His body hadn't immediately become this bad, but as the years wore on, his body seemed to be eaten up, more and more, by battles and time itself. He listened to the sounds of nothing much else but parts clattering above him and a few curses in German. To his side, Fareeha leaned against the wall, ashamed, still, by the earlier events.

"Okay," Angela grumbled, more so to herself, as she spun around, "We're going to try this. Mei could at least help when it comes to parts unattached to your body…"

She frowned as Fareeha reached up to her face, gently pulling away the paper mask over her face, "I can go get-"

"Stop!" Angela shouted, covering her own face to direct Fareeha, "You're still in time out for putting poor Genji in here. And keep your mask on, okay?"

"But you're not even wearing-"

Angela glared at her, leaving Fareeha with a sigh before she slid down the wall to sit down, covering her frown with the paper mask. Genji had turned to watch her, the man suddenly beginning to laugh, which pleased Angela little as she watched his torso jumble around in front of her, freely.

"Please, Hakase, poor Amari has already suffered enough. It's not every day you literally tear a human being to shreds, you know."

"Thank you!" Fareeha pointed, lifting a finger into the air as Angela rolled her eyes.

The doctor shook her head, "It's not to make her suffer, anyway. I figured this would be a good time for you two to get to know one another since, obviously, there are some misconceptions from one party involved."

Fareeha sighed, glaring, "I said I was sorry."

Angela grinned at her, propping the metallic arm piece against Genji's shoulder, "Besides, she doesn't know yet."

"Ahh," Genji nodded, "No wonder. Eh, for the record, Amari, uh, Fareeha… My courtesy wasn't meant to impede at all between you two; I simply, uh, how do I put it- I do owe this doctor my life."

Angela shrugged, "Some would say "lives", but yeah, you're probably somewhat accurate."

Genji smirked, turning back to Fareeha, "Trust me; I haven't the ability to take _anybody_ , much less a woman I respect as much as your doctor."

The thought entering Fareeha's head, she groaned, "Well, uh, thanks for clarifying that."

He hummed a chuckle as he returned to staring up at the ceiling as Angela wove what was left of his body into the inner mechanisms of the arm piece she'd shoved against his shoulder. She eyed his face as she did so, speaking curiously as she finished up his limb.

"Your muscles seem to be in better shape than they were. Whatever you're doing with that meditation, it's working," Angela noted.

Fareeha, who'd kept her own eyes on the man, finally spoke Angela tinkered with the metallic arm, running her finger down the soft entrenching of rivers, "Okay, so what exactly happened to, uh, you? Not to be rude or anything."

Genji twisted his lips as he recalled his history while Angela remained focused on his new limb, "Well, it's a rather long story. The short version was that I was left for dead in the bottom of a ravine, Overwatch wanted me because of my family connections, so Angela, here, decided to c- OUCH!"

His head sharply shot toward Angela, who was staring back at him, pithily, as her finger undid one of the fasteners at his shoulder, "Too tight? Oh, my bad."

Fareeha, now more curious, watched Angela as she returned to her work, the doctor's face darkening as she played the memory back in her mind. It was a place she often despised returning to, much less listen to by Genji, relaying it to the last person the doctor ever wanted to know about that part of her own history.

Genji seemed to have gotten the 'subtle' note from her, as he finished, "Basically, my body is a testament to what combat will do to a body. And I don't mean to toss out platitudes; I actually spent a lot of time with a spiritual figure the last few years since the disbanding."

"Really," Fareeha spoke up, rising to her feet, "You don't seem like the spiritual type."

"I'm not, really," he grinned, childishly, "But you know, people often wonder whether or not the have souls, all that stuff- all I saw was metal and a body that wasn't mine; it was just a manufactured mess of parts and fusings. It troubled me greatly, and I had nothing much else to do in the meantime."

He shrugged as best he could, "At the very least, I'm far more comfortable in my skin, now. Well, in my…you know."

Angela nodded as she pulled over part of a leg, "Yes, and if that spiritual side showed up more often than your training, I might not have to keep putting you back together."

Genji laughed, "Oh, come on. That duel with Amar- Fareeha was the most fun I've had in a while. Shame my body resulted in a short fight; I look forward to a rematch."

Fareeha nodded dismissively as she lowered her head, shamefully, thinking of the outcome of their first match. She'd never "dismantled" a man before, she thought, as she scratched her cheek nervously. Angela continued working with Genji's legs, carefully linking up what was left of his nerves with wirings that laid out from the inner mechanisms of the metallic prosthetic.

Her hand pressed against the ridged segment that made up the kneecap, her face wincing as she did so, finally sighing as she struggled to pull away, not doing so until Genji gently pushed her away, "Move along, doctor."

She nodded, readily, completing her checkup as Genji's head fell back toward table, "I've tried to. It'll be more difficult with you reminding me on it."

Fareeha's eyes stared up at the two from below, curiously, unable to figure out their history. After her first, and last, foray into Angela's past, which resulted only in an inaccurate choice of book, the good doctor had threatened a great deal of punishment were Fareeha to delve into her past without permission.

She couldn't ever figure our wherever it was because Angela was ashamed of her past, or frightened of it.

Angela patted down Genji's robotic foot as she finished up, sighing happily as her fists rode her waist as she stood back, happily, to admire her work, nodding to herself. Genji sat up, slowly, his face wincing in pain as his body ached, grasping ahold of his side.

"Doesn't ever get easier," he smirked as he hung his head low, gritting his teeth.

Fareeha stepped up to him to help him to his feet, gently taking ahold of his hands as he pushed himself on to his feet, groaning, "I mean, through the pain, I can already tell this setup is better."

Angela smiled, sadly, watching him, "Well I'll get Mei and Jamison up here and you can thank them yourself. Even if you managed the trip down there yourself, I'm not letting you into _that_ icebox, so don't even try it, okay?"

Genji nodded boyishly, as if obeying orders wasn't a concept he even understood, though his eyes slowly opened wide as his head locked onto the door, his body shaking in worry. Angela quickly turned to find Lena there, the girl's face horrified at the sight as she swung open the door, forcefully.

"G-Genji!" she shouted, bursting through the door before Angela suddenly dove at her, tackling her to the ground before the two began to wrestle, Fareeha only able to stare, worriedly, as she kept ahold of the patient.

"Genji! I needed to see y- OW!- before you left!" Lena barely managed as Angela wrangled her down.

Angela squirmed, "C-Calm down! He needs to rest; you don't- don't touch me there!- you don't need to go grappling onto him!"

In a burst of ozone, Lena evaporated in Angela's arms, warping to her feet alongside Genji as the doctor stared up toward her, angrily. To her credit, Lena kept her arms behind her back as she examined the ninja carefully, her face saddened by the sight.

"It's alright," he laughed, "Once I get better, I may be able to even keep up with you, though."

Lena smiled, lightly, before speaking up, "I'll hold ya to that! Winston's having me head on out, so I needed to make sure I saw you again and said goodbye."

Genji smiled as he turned to Fareeha, who had moved a hand to his shoulder at the appearance of Lena, "Well, if Fareeha doesn't mind helping out, I'd be more than happy to see you off. What are you off to, anyway? I didn't hear of any assignments."

Without answering, Fareeha carefully walked alongside him, figuring it was the least she could do, still, as Lena spoke up, excitedly, "I'm goin' to the states! All those beacons that Winston sent with everybody for a possible recall? All of them have been shut off except for one."

"Jesse?" Genji figured, quickly, "I can't think of many others who'd be over there. At least not many who Winston would personally assure their well-"

He paused, lowering his head, "Ah."

Angela nodded as the four left the room, turning down the corridor that lead down to the hangar, "So you've kept up with everything?"

"Well, enough," Genji answered, his eyes shifting, "So Gabriel really, uh…"

"Yes," Angela replied, lowly, pointing to Fareeha, "He nearly killed this one. We don't know much about it, but he seems to be the one behind Talon targeting Overwatch agents."

"So that explains the recall," Genji nodded, shaking his head, "Never would have taken Gabe for a traitor, but I mean, you know."

Fareeha's eyes peered toward the others curiously, having been one of the newest to the group. Despite taking a round of whatever hellish ammunition that Reaper carried in his firearms, she really hadn't been told all that much, about the man Gabriel Reyes or about the Reaper that nearly ended her life. So listening to their discussion, it was a topic she was happy to glean.

"That's why we need to get Jesse," Lena explained, seriously.

"Yes," Genji agreed, "If he isn't answering the recall… I'd hate to think he's following his former mentor into madness."

"I'm sure he's fine," Angela shrugged, "I'm sure he just has something going on. If anything will get him to come back, planting Lena in his backyard will certainly get him to escape back here."

Lena eyed her, unamused, rolling her eyes as she muttered under her breath, "Like he'd like to see the doctor who recommended he get a prostate exam again…"

"Huh?" Angela asked, sincerely.

Fareeha laughed as lightly as she could at Lena's observation, only adding to Angela's confusion as the four entered the hangar. Lena excitedly burst through the air, up toward the Splitstream, her hand enthusiastically slapping at the top of the open door as she jumped in with a loud shout.

"The cavalry's here!" she shouted, accompanying the aluminum bang above her as she rushed into the craft to prepare.

"So much for goodbyes, huh?" Genji laughed.

Angela shook her head disappointedly, "The girl just has no manners. She just needs a-"

"I CAN HEAR YOU," blared the speakers atop the Splitstream, Lena shooting Angela a stare from the cockpit before burying herself deeper into the ship.

The doctor wore a sardonic frown as she turned back toward Genji, "As I said."


	6. Alone, in the Wild West

The scorching sun of the Wild West ran across the dirt-strewn ground, finding resistance only in the proudly tall cacti that occasionally peppered the landscape. Not one for unwanted company, Jesse had made his way rather far from the nearest city, leaving little to no clues as to where to find him. Even with his tiny 'recall cube', given to each member of Overwatch after their disbarment in order to signal recall, Winston was too polite to add any sort of tracking devices to them.

Lena had wrapped herself up in a shawl to protect herself from the wind, which was all to happy to kick up whatever dust or rocks it came across, and as Lena kept an eye on the small village that sat before her, she could tell she was as close to Jesse as she could get without further help. She grinned as she pushed her cowboy hat further down her head, feeling rather childish at her attire, especially when she thought of how often she used to steal Jesse's hat just to annoy him.

She whipped out a small communication device, switching it on as a crackling noise answered her, giving her the signal to speak, "Winston? I'm just outside Hobe City. I'll give it a look-over, see if anybody knows Jesse or anything."

"Alright," came Winston's voice after a slight delay, "Keep an eye out. When he left, he cited increased outlaw activity as a reason why he was returning home. Unless he's the sheriff or something, I don't think-"

He paused, able to hear Lena's muffled giggling, "…you're laughing."

"Mmff! S-Sorry! It's just funny- Sherriff McCree," Lena laughed, "The only thing he hated more than the man was becoming the man himself."

Winston sighed, "You have a point. Just keep an eye out, okay? If you need help-"

"I know, I know," Lena groaned, "Don't you trust me?"

"I'd trust you with my life," Winston sighed, "It's those varmints down there that Jesse always talked about that I do t trust."

Lena looked off into the distance, her eyes squinted in confusion as she spoke up again, slowly, "You mean those prairie dogs?"

Winston went silent at the recognition of his misunderstanding, a barely audible sigh escaping the small device before he finally spoke up, distantly, as if he'd sat his device on his desk, "Just be careful."

"Aye aye, captain!" Lena shouted, "I'll be back in time for afternoon tea!"

She shut off the device, quickly peering down at the red button that adorned its side, reminding herself of how to use it, if need be. She was to grip the communicator in her hand and, with her thumb, spin the red button counter-clockwise and mash it, sending a panic signal to Winston, who would then send help, most likely in the form of a rocket barrage from the heavens, courtesy of Fareeha Amari.

Lena had assured the soldier that she would not be in any trouble, a claim that Fareeha nervously agreed was correct, and had Winston keep her at headquarters anyway. Still, Winston's words had forced her to do that much, and she figured she would, at least, practice spinning the red button from within her pocket as she walked toward the small, western town that arose like a small mesa in the distance.

As she entered into the town, she immediately noticed the stares that she was receiving, though she hadn't an idea why. She looked down at her dress, which, for the most part, resembled Jesse's, as she'd figured she would follow whatever conventions he did out here. Trying to emulate him, she grabbed the top of her hat and pulled it down low over her face, trying to hold back a childish grin in an attempt to remain cool-looking.

The glances continued as she walked down the wooden porches that lined the earthen street, eventually managing to ignore them as she spun coolly into one of the taverns, stopping in surprise as she stood in the doorway. One of the patrons, an omnic, immediately caught her glare, giving her an aggressive posture until she looked away, shocked to have found omnics all the way out here in the Western United States, but she quickly made her way through the crowded bar, avoiding staring at anybody else as she made her way up to the counter, which was already lined with sauced patrons, swaying in time with the light fanfare of music that came from a harpsichord in the corner.

"Hold on: I'll be right witcha," the bartender murmered as he filled a mug, "Bad week ter be vis'tin', y'know. Tha Ponderosa's holdin' its annu'l…"

The man turned to pass off the mug to a patron, stealing a glance at the newcomer and immediately halting his speech, simply turning away toward the back wall of the bar, grabbing a large bottle and reaching backward to hand it to Lena without looking at her, "On the house."

Lena watched this play out, curiously, slowly grabbing the glass vessel before managing a weakly confused, "…thank you…"

She backed up, keeping an eye on the bartender, who remained hunched over the back counter, the Brit's eyes narrowing curiously before turning around to find a place to sit within the crowded building. She settled on a corner table, making sure to keep herself half-turned away from the bar in order to take the occasional glimpse back toward the barkeep, interested heavily in his actions.

He remained turned away, though was now on the phone, the only thing Lena able to take away from it was the man's gravely slow nod near the end of the call. He returned to his work, noticeably less enthused and with his head hanging low, not giving Lena a chance to examine him. She sighed lightly, her lips twisted in dissatisfaction as she pulled out her phone, attentively tapping at the screen as she waiting for something to happen.

With zero leads, she had little else to do but follow this one, curious enough, especially considering the townspeople had been eyeing her as well. Was it her face? Was she as pasty as Angela had accused during her last checkup?! Lena looked down at her waist; her shirt hadn't ridden up to reveal anything. Maybe they just weren't over the Revolution still?

At that thought, Lena's face grew serious, now eyeing any patron that might be hiding a pitchfork somewhere, her teeth clenching angrily at the thought that she might very well be-

*BANG!*

Lena jumped in shock, as did nearly everybody in attendance, as the swinging doors into the tavern slammed open, crashing into their joining walls with a massive crash, one of them nearly being yanked off its hinges as a menacing trio of men stepped into the bar, the lead of the three wearing a sinister look as he eyed the bartender from the door.

The patrons all sat silent as he yelled out in an angry voice, "Where are they?!"

The bartender pointed, gingerly, out into the crowd, nervously explaining himself, "S-Still in here! I gave 'em the '66 proof, j-just like you said!"

The black leather-clad cowboy turned, peering out into the quiet crowd of people, some of them still watching him in surprise, while others bent over low, trying to keep away from his attentive stare. He nodded enthusiastically, throwing a hand over his shoulder and snapping his fingers loudly, giving his two compadres the signal to walk out into the bar, silently looking over the different tables.

The leader brought his hands down, tucking his thumbs into the front end of his belt as he looked out, menacingly, into the crowd, "Like Judas and his silver, huh boys."

Neither of the men replied, their vicious eyes remaining downward as they passed table to table, examining the different bottles that sat out, coming closer and closer to the table in the corner.

"How ya' doin', Miles?" the outlaw asked, rather brightly, considering his entrance.

The bartender stuttered aloud, quietly, "I-I-I don't- I don't, uh-"

The devilish man eyed him, "Was it _him_?!"

"No!" he replied, fiddling with his fingers, "B-B-But-!"

In a second, the man had rushed to the counter and, in a blinding flash, reached up to grasp whatever hair was left on Miles' head and yanked it down, smashing the barkeep's face against the bar. He held him down as he viciously waved at his two cronies, ordering them to continue looking as he dipped his head low, right by the bartender's ear.

"Wanna run that by me again?" the outlaw asked, seething, his hand drawn back as if ready to pounce toward his pistol.

"I-I-It-!" Miles blubbered, his face quickly overcome with a viscous mix of blood and tears as he remained pinned to the counter, "It was a woman! Sh-She was dressed in his clothes; I'd recognize 'em anywhere!"

The outlaw drew his head back, seemingly intrigued as he let Miles' head go, though the bartender remained hunched over in submission, almost afraid to lift his head just to find his nose broken. The black-clad man looked back, his two henchmen shrugging curiously as they returned to his side.

"Clean," one of them muttered, "No '66 whiskey, nor any other women besides that table over yonder."

The leader's lips pulled and strained as he thought, his eyes joining the act as they peered off, slanted, "That's fine. We know where she's going. Maybe we'll just head up to Jesse's place real quick; straighten things out with him, if ya know what I mean, huh boys?"

The two cronies chuckled as they agreed, one of them pulling a club out from beneath their cloak, beating it against their open palm. Their leader nodded back to them, turning back toward Miles, who refused to cease his crying, though he had been silent the entire time.

"For God's sake, clean this bar up, Miles," he complained, motioning toward the pool of liquids that had begun working its way to the edge of the wooden counter, "It's a disgrace to your establishment!"

"Y-Y-Yes s-sir," Miles yammered, pitifully, pulling his head up and teetering as he walked, his head still swimming from the impact.

As the three men headed out, the patrons remained quiet, some of them beginning to look around to see who, or what, they had been looking for. One of them peered over toward the empty corner table, curiously recalling a woman sitting there just a moment ago, though she seemed to have left. He merely shrugged, perhaps thinking of some wench from his past.

Had he paid more attention, he'd have noticed the streak of blue neutrons that lined the air for only a split second as Lena darted from the table to the space behind a large, ornate curtain that hung down last a closed window, just having the presence of mind to grab the bottle that had inexplicably been given to her. Watching the previous scene play out, powerless to stop it, her hand held her mouth shut, a soft line of tears running down her knuckles.

In her other hand, the device from earlier; her thumb endlessly pushing down on the red button.

*click* *click**click* *click* *click* *click*….

* * *

"It was _in_ -sane!" Lena shouted into her communicator, huddled behind a pile of boulders that sat beside a cliffside right outside of town, "They literally nearly took his face off!"

A pause came in reply as Winston considered the danger that they now understood was lurking, though Lena went on, not privy on letting his think at this time, "I was just hiding and watching this argy-bargy go down, completely at sixes and sevens! That tosser just, blam! knocked that poor sod's brain into a tizzy!"

"L-Lena, step off the British please," Winston muttered, nervously, "One form of English is enough for this one's mind."

"Sorry," Lena groaned, "Look, they seemed to make a point of my wardrobe. Everybody was staring at me, and the bar guy- I think he was turning me in to those guys when he was on the phone."

Winston answered, "Well, even I thought you packed odd. What, do you look out of place?"

"I didn't think so. I took these from Jesse's locker a while ago."

"You did what?!" Winston questioned loudly, beside himself.

Lena complained in reply, "What?! He didn't want them anymore!"

Groaning quietly, Winston muttered, continuing along, "I'll get in touch with Fareeha and see if she can get out there. We're kind of behind the ball; you insisted on going alone, after all, though that was back when this was a simple assignment."

" _Very_ simple," Lena frowned, "I can't sit here and hide, though; if they got so freaked out over Jesse's clothes, I'm kind of worried about the man himself."

"Agreed," Winston nodded to himself, speaking gravely, "See if you can't locate him and check in on him. It's obvious the situation is more perilous than we originally planned; at this point, I'm legitimately worried that it's not a question of whether or not Jesse decided not to answer the recall. You know… Maybe he couldn't-"

"Don't you throw that spanner into the works!" Lena complained, frowning, "He's fine; he's always been fine! Always…"

She trailed off, gradually building to a weakened sigh, "I'll find him."

"Good," Winston concluded, "I'll get Fareeha out there ASAP."

Her communicator clicked so signal its disconnection, leaving Lena out here in the desert, alone. She peered up and over the rock immediately beside her, staring out toward the small town that she'd just, for all intents and purposes, escaped. All she wanted to do, after witnessing the brutality of this place, was curl into a ball and hide, waiting for backup. Though, she turned further, out into the wilderness, knowing that somewhere out there, there was already backup- backup that, for all she knew, needed her for the same purpose.

Steeling her resolve, she quickly pulled off her top-layer, dropping the shawl to the ground, as well as the hat, frowning as she dropped them both to the ground, muttering to herself as she likened herself to Jesse in this moment, "Be good. You've got some pretty big shoes to fill, Oxton."

And with that, she bit her lip as she began out into the wilderness, figuring she'd figure out something if she went out far enough and just made a circle around the town. She knew that, for all of Jesse's bluster and stubbornness, he would truly want to be found by his old group.

Even if he'd come back here for his wife and children.

* * *

"You're doing what?!" Angela shouted, arms out in front of her to further dramatize her surprise.

Fareeha turned toward her, head held up high as her chest plate came against her body "Backup."

"I got that part," Angela muttered, her lips turned in dissatisfaction, "For _whom_?!"

Fareeha sighed, "For Tracer."

Angela's eyes slid nearly shut as she turned away, frowning, "I was more in the loop when I wasn't _in_ this damned organization… So that girl is more than happy to stick sock puppets in my dresser to freak me out at four in the morning, and then has the _audacity_ to ask _my_ girlfriend to help _her_ out?!"

She scowled toward Fareeha as her tanned-skin partner giggled sneakily, a wide smile emerging, "You called my your girlfriend."

"Oh, shut up," Angela grimaced, realizing she'd inadvertently shown her hand, turning away to hide any sign of embarrassment as she changed the subject, "So you're going to the States?"

Fareeha nodded as more pieces of her armor clicked together, "Yep. To the Wild West, at that. I don't know what Winston was thinking, having her go alone; it's still a hotbed for criminal activity."

"Adawe doesn't want a massive operation for something as silly as reclaiming a former operative," Angela assured, "No doubt Winston figured one person would make less of a scene. Of course, couple that with Lena's inability to think beyond the next five seconds, her sheer abrasiveness, and let's be honest, reckless excitement at Overwatch being recalled, she easily jumped at the chance."

Fareeha shrugged, lifting her leg backward as sparks began shooting out behind her, "I suppose. Don't worry; coming late and saving the day is par for the course for me, it seems."

A mischievous smirk stretched along Amgela's face as she eyed Fareeha, heatedly, "I know that all too well."

The sliding of metal broke the air as Junkrat's head popped up from behind Fareeha, having pulled open his welder's mask, "A'right, we have no need fer that! I thought I was helpin' out, not sittin' in fer some late-night special!"

The two women laughed lightly while Fareeha waved him off, "It's fine; she was just messing around. How's it coming along, anyway, Junky?"

The Australian man cocked a boyish grin as he shot a thumbs up toward her, "Sheila, by the time we're done with ya, your enemies will be dead before any of 'em can hear what yer thrusters sound like! Assumin' yer aim is good 'n all; no getting' pissed the night before, aye?"

He giggled to himself as he ducked back down, continuing on Fareeha's boot, which contained quite a few mechanisms that helped her remain stable as she landed. Angela watched him for a moment before her eyes jumped back toward her soldier, questioningly, as she held up two fingers.

"Okay, one; 'Junky'?" she wondered.

Fareeha shrugged, "I called him 'Jamie' and Mei had Snowball come after me with a fork. Probably that jealousy creeping in; you know, he's her little helper."

Between his helmet and the sound of soldering, Junkrat failed to hear them speak, even as Angela went on, "Alright, and who's the "we're" that he was referring to?"

Before Fareeha could answer, back in the corner of the small armory space, a large swivel chair spun around, revealing Roadhog, simply sitting there and staring back as if that was an accurate reply.

"Junkrat's designs are, uh, _unorthodox_ by…well, by anybody's standards, so Roadie's writing the code that'll help facilitate Athena's immersion into the system," Fareeha explained, easily, "You know, all that stuff."

Roadhog leaned forward, coughing dryly into the crick of his elbow, speaking softly as he looked back up toward Angela, "Least I can do before leaving."

"Well, you're keeping my agent safe, so that's thanks enough," Angela assured.

Roadhog shrugged as he slowly spun back toward his computer console, his voice a gravelly mess still, "I already heard you two earlier; no point adjusting your words."

Angela frowned, eyeing Fareeha's childish grin, the soldier shrugging dramatically, "You _did_ say girlfriend, you know. Everyone heard it."

Her hand exposed, once again, Angela couldn't help but bury her face into her hand, exhaustingly, before turning to leave.


	7. The Battleworn Cowboy

Lena's eyes peeked just over a small formation of rocks as she crouched low, watching the small, wooden house that sat in this small gorge beyond the town she'd just left. Resting between two mighty crags that rose up either side of it, the house seemed almost decrepit, if anything, or perhaps, 'lived in'. With the shade from the two walls of rock, the area surrounding her actually had some greenery, making quite a peacefully rustic scene amidst the dead desert sands.

Being the first possible residence of Jesse McCree, Lena eyed it fiercely, wary of anybody not by the same name possibly residing inside it's wooden frame, with stood quite battered, with some planks even having fallen down to the dirt below. She had kept watch for a good hour, with nothing of note having occurred, and becoming rather bored, she decided to slowly creep around the rubble that had kept her out of sight, carefully stepping toward the small home.

She bit her bottom lip as she treaded softly up toward the wooden porch that jutted out from the small building, her feet just barely making a noise apart from the intermediate crackle of the tiny bulbs of dirt that crumbled beneath her. Making it to the porch, she took a step onto the first of three steps, the wood creaking loudly beneath her as her face grimaced, though she went on to the top, quickly, not wanting the stairs to break with her atop of them.

"Phew," she whispered to herself as she watched the door, taking one other step further before pausing, immediately, her heart skipping a beat as the low clicking of a gun broke past her ear.

In a split second, Lena was replaced by the blue absence of atmosphere, her body having disappeared entirely from the porch as she huddled down behind the rocks she'd just been behind just a moment earlier. She held her mouth to keep from crying out in fear as she looked around, having not brought a weapon herself. Nearly in a panic, she froze as the wooden creaking arose again, this time louder, as the door to the house opened.

"Trace," came a low, gravelly voice, "C'mon; I know it's you."

Lena's eyes shut as her upper body sank in relief, slowly picking herself up as she shot a glance overtop her cover, angrily, "You scared the living daylights outta me!"

"Can't be too careful out here," Jesse explained, leaning against the frame of the door, playing with a pistol in his hands, "Sounds like you've already found that out."

She began to roll her eyes, though she quickly changed to a glare of confusion as she began toward him, "How'd you…"

Jesse shrugged, waving her in as he turned and began back into the darkness within his home, grabbing a shirt from the back of a chair before disappearing from Lena's view, speaking as he went, just within earshot, "I can't believe you came all this way. I told ya'll I'd be back."

"Well, Winston sent out the recall without a word from you," Lena explained as she stepped casually into the house, stopping in surprise at the state with which McCree had been living in, just barely able to complete her thought as she looked around, horrified, "We were…worried."

The walls were completely bare, with the floor completely in shambles, as if his home had been ransacked a good fifteen times. There were clothes, shelves, picture frames, all on the ground; a dresser had been turned over, and even a blanket laid on the ground, ripped clear down the middle. Lena was completely unable to speak, given the state of this man's home, though Jesse went on as if it hadn't fazed him a bit.

"I can care for myself," he muttered, faintingly, from the other room, "How's the old ape, anyway?"

Lena didn't hear him as she remained standing in the entryway, still, attempting to take in the chaos until Jesse leaned through the far door, staring at her, "What's wrong?"

"This!" she shouted, dramatically, "You live like this?!"

Jesse looked down at the floor as if the mess had been a brand new thing to him, though he simply shrugged, "No big deal. I'll get some coffee goin'."

Lena frowned at his nonchalance, stomping her way into the room and crouching down, trying to sort out everything that was lying there, grabbing a lengthy plank of wood, which broke off of its adjoining section as she yanked it from the pile, leaving her even more frustrated as she rose to her feet, dropping the half of the plank she'd ended up with.

"I think you're making it worse," Jesse chimed in, standing in the same door he'd looked through a moment ago, "Might as well leave it. With you running around, I'm sure anything that goes back up will come down again."

He disappeared into the other room again, though having been insulted, Lena grew more determined, jumping right into the fray and begrudgingly sorting the mess into different piles. The rolled the large blanket into a manageable ball, tossing it to the side, grabbing a torn up chair and putting those pieces into her trash pile, taking ahold of some leather sleeve of a jacket and yanking out of the pi-

"Oh…" she whispered to herself, sadly, as she reached down to grab the pulsing blue cube that had been a part of the rubble, bring it up to her face, reverently, noticing the button that hadn't yet been pushed to acknowledge the recall order.

She looked up and walked into the room that Jesse was in, speaking up as she went along, "Hey Jesse, why didn't you-"

Pausing at the kitchen doorway, she saw Jesse sitting on a short stool just next to the counter alongside the gentle churning of the coffee maker, his body hung low as he reached over to his right arm, cleaning a nasty gash that led along the side of it. She hadn't noticed it in the doorway, though she now hurried over to his side, crouching down beside him and taking his arm from him, though he immediately pulled it back away from her, watching her blankly.

"Jesse! You live like this?!" Lena wondered, bluntly, yanking his arm back toward her to help him clean it.

His face grimaced in pain as the wound reopened due to the sudden movements, yet he still managed to pull himself back, spinning away on the stool as he began again, "I have no choice. And I'm already reminded why I didn't push that button."

He grumbled to himself, having noticed the cube in Lena's other hand, though with no part of her brain that currently understood rejections, she bolted in front of him in a flash of blue, stealing away his first aid kit and grabbing his wrist once again, her teeth seething angrily, "If you don't let me help suture you, I'm gonna pour that coffee right on top of you!"

Jesse sighed, relinquishing his arm to Lena as she placed it properly in front of herself, beginning to clean the fresh blood that had begun pouring down his arm, grumbling lightly as she did so, "I swear to god; one of these days, you'll all know I'm always right."

Looking away to avoid any repurcushion, Jesse rolled his eyes before they returned to meet the block that Lena had dropped onto the ground, the blue cube that had transparent patterns on it where blue lights pulsated in and out of existence ever since the recall had been ordered. When he'd left Overwatch, it had been given to him, as similar ones had been given to everybody, besides Angela, who had quit at the time, with Winston instructing them to push the covered button as a way to answer the recall, giving him a sort of 'inventory' on all the returning members.

Jesse's eyes fell low, sadly, recollecting the day it had first gone off. Had it done so just a week earlier, he thought to himself, begrudgingly…

"I thought you living next to that city was worrisome," Lena muttered aloud, breaking his train of thought, "If all this is your definition of 'caring for yourself', I'm sorry, but I'm gonna have to go Webster's on your ass again."

He replied in a gravelly voice, "It's not the worst it's been, I can assure you."

Lena brought out the needle to begin suturing his arm up, speaking softer as she was also concentrating, "Okay, I'm gonna need some explanation. some answers. And I'm preventing you from bleeding out, so I think I deserve some."

Jesse shook his head, "It's best you don't know anything, trust me. The more you know, the later you leave the place- the more danger you're in."

Lena's eyed jumped up to meet his, causing him to smirk, only slightly, as he turned away, shaking his head, "Of course, I know you won't abide by any of that. Must be why Winston sent _you_."

Nodding, Lena carefully pulled his skin together, slowly poking the needle and thread through to keep the ends attached, "How'd you know I was here?"

Jesse groaned, rubbing his face, "A little birdy told me- GAH!"

He whipped his head around toward Lena, who was already staring back with a frown, having poked the injury with the needle, "The fuck's your problem?!"

Lena replied, angrily, "No lies, mister."

"Fuck," Jesse repeated, angrily, "Those thugs at the bar told me; that good enough for ya?!"

Lena peered over toward the door, "Are they who ransacked your house?"

"Yes," Jesse answered, resting his elbow on his knee as his head fell onto his hand, "Happy now?"

Thinking for a moment, Lena shook her head, concentrating on her first aid, "For now, yeah. I already figured out that my clothes tipped 'em off."

"Another spectacular demonstration of espionage by Overwatch's premiere atmospheric spy," Jesse grumbled, sarcastically, sighing to himself, "They said the nearly took the bartender's head off because of you."

Lena frowned, "How was I supposed to know?"

"You weren't; you were supposed to infer," Jesse explained, "Probably _don't_ wander around in an ex-gangster's garb in an area where gang activity is increasingly, particularly the gang which that ex-gangster sold out."

"The Deadlock Gang?" Lena wondered aloud.

"The very same," Jesse explained, begrudgingly, "So now you know what explains everything; with all that, I'd be happy if you'd return to your superior and let him know what I already have- that I'll push that damn button when I can."

Lena paused her work, staring up toward him, "So you're going to beat them alone? Even last time, you were only a sting; you needed Blackwatch to-"

She stopped herself, quickly becoming silent as she focused solely on her suture, slowly becoming the recipient of Jesse's stare as he spoke up, lowly, "Needed who?"

He grinned, rather devilishly, as Lena was unable to answer the question, "Could it be that my well-being isn't what you were checking on, Lena Oxton?"

Lena's eyes narrowed as she remained fixed on the spindle of thread that fell from his arm, not wanting to speak any further. Just as well, Jesse stood up, grunting as he did, walking over toward the counter and pouring himself a cup of coffee with the lengthy line of thread still falling down his side.

"So you're checking up on me. Making sure I'm not one of Gabriel's cronies, huh?" he questioned, though with more accusatory vitriol than anything else.

Lena couldn't find the will to answer him as he turned to walk off, turning the corner to enter into the damaged collection of housewares that laid strewn across his living room. Lena remained crouched down in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter, disillusioned by the fact that what she was doing had seemed to be so untrusting. While she, herself, had been worried of Jesse McCree's well-being, that wasn't the point of the mission, she understood.

A loud *CLACK* broke through the air, causing Lena to jump in surprise as a picture frame slid across the kitchen, coming to a stop near enough for her eyes to look up toward its contents. Behind the broken pane of glass was a picture, cut down the middle, with the unmistakable image of a woman and two children. Lena slowly looked up toward the doorway, seeing Jesse standing there, his back against its frame as he pulled the mug of coffee down from his lid.

"You want to test my loyalty? See if I'm a trustworthy agent? that I didn't turn to the dark side and that I'm still a part of Overwatch?" he questioned, deeply, "Ask those three whether or not I'm a loyal man. They'll tell you that I am."

He paused for a moment as he took another swig of coffee, slowly continuing as he pulled his hand down once again, "Of course, they wouldn't be able to tell you themselves now. They're about as dead as I feel these days."

He turned away, lowering his arm to his side before dropping the mug onto the ground without any sense of care, the porcelain material sending a loud *CLANG* into the air as it hit the ground, rolling around for a moment before laying there, steadily. Jesse walked deeper into the house, turning a corner out of Lena's sight, leaving her along in the kitchen, pulling the frame up to her face to examine the picture.

The woman and two children were beautiful, she thought to herself, sadly. She wished she could have met them; had she even known Jesse had a family.

She looked up in an instant as Jesse returned, "Here. Give this to Winston. Should be all the proof he needs."

He walked halfway through the kitchen before simply tossing something through the air toward her, Lena catching it skillfully before quickly pulling it close to her face, staring at the tiny pendant critically, unable to figure out what it signified. It was a rusted over silver pendant, shaped something like an 'M', though with no other discernable portions of it.

"That man they found out knew the bitch who shot Amari's eyes out," Jesse explained, "That belonged to him."

Lena's eyes flickered for a moment before she looked up at him, worriedly, "You mean-"

"I found him," he answered, nonchalantly, "Brought him back here. Questioned him. Tortured him. He didn't know nothin'. That was on the report I received; should do plenty to confirm his identity. It's about all that's left of him, anyway."

Almost able to feel her eyes sinking back into herself, Lena stared, almost frighteningly, toward the man she had so long considered an older brother. He seemed like someone else now; some grotesque, distortion of the Jesse McCree she had once known. As he readjusted himself to begin walking, she flinched, unconsciously, though he didn't seem to notice.

"Best you leave and get that back to him, y'know," Jesse muttered, cutting the thread from his arm with a pocket knife, leaving a portion of his wound still open, "I doubt you'd be prepared to stay out here, anyway, and remain-"

Lena's ears perked up at his sudden silence, standing up to look out the kitchen window, though Jesse rushed back into the kitchen, throwing his arm through the air to direct her to step back, "Get away from there! Goddamn; I thought they were done."

"Who?!" Lena wondered aloud.

Jesse quickly darted toward the kitchen table, ripping the rug from beneath it and running his finger along one of the wooden planks, "Those guys you saw at the bar. They're back; they never come here twice in a day. Fuck!"

He found a small digit in one of the planks, allowing him to tear the trap door up and point down into the crawlspace, turning toward Lena, "Get down there."

"What?!" Lena pleaded, her eyes full of fright, "I'm not going down there! I'm gonna help you get rid of those monsters once and for all!"

"Lena," Jesse spoke up, lowly, in a desperately soft tone, "Get down there. If they see you, they _will_ kill you."

Her breaths shook for the briefest moments before the made her way over toward the door, not breaking eye contact with Jesse until she hopped down into the cramped space, haunted by the look of fear she had just seen in his eyes. She ducked down, allowing Jesse to slam the door shut, leaving Lena in total darkness, save for the tiny slits of light that broke through the wooden slats of floor above her.

She remained there for only a moment before her determination grew leaps and bounds within her, listening to Jesse's footsteps go through the house. She examined her surroundings, finding that, while some of the crawlspace was walled off to support the house above, there was plenty of space to maneuver around, she wondered if it had been there to hide contraband.

Lena quickly crawled through on all fours, her hands quickly pushing away dirt, mud, and cobwebs that had all accumulated down here, careful to keep her eyes up to make sure she wasn't about to run into anything. She began turning, circumnavigating around the house, hoping to, eventually, come to the living room, though, suddenly, she paused, the slamming of the front door causing the house to vibrate, just barely.

She heard muffled voices, angry ones, as she remained there, intently, only a tad bit shaken, before her eyes narrowed, a foreign noise beginning to enter her ears. It was a shallow, cold sort of noise, almost like a shivering…breathing, she thought. She lifted her head, curiously, trying to peek up through the wooden slats, though just as she did so, a loud *BANG* shook the house once again, Lena immediately returning to Jesse's situation. She continued along, desperately, her mind on nothing more than the stranger within her old friend's body.


	8. Deadlocked and Demonized

Jesse threw the trap door down to the ground, turning gravely toward the living room, his breathing growing quicker as he wondered why they'd come back. Had they seen something? Did they know something he didn't? They'd already come once today, though that was for the sighting of Lena at the bar- they'd done their usual beating, and besides the knife that sliced down his arm, it was business as usual, he figured.

Warily walking through the living room, he remained in the middle of the room as he stared through the window, the three black-clad men stomping up toward the door, a heavy series of knocks ringing through the home, the final one leaving a particularly vicious tone running through the small building. Jesse groaned as he slowly approached the door, reaching out to grab the handle, twisting it open.

In the split second that he began to pull it open, the door flew into him as the leader of the three men kicked it inward, knocking Jesse backward, and although he stumbled, he remained standing, his head lowered as he leered at them through his disheveled hair that fell in front of his face. The main man cocked his head back toward his cronies, one of them closing the door as the three of them entered.

"Jesse."

"Joshua," Jesse replied, coldly.

The leader of the three, Joshua, grinned snarkily, shaking his head in feigned disbelief, "But you're wondering why we're back today."

"It did cross my mind, yes."

Chuckling behind his closed mouth, Joshua slowly pulled his gloves from his hands, which signaled to Jesse that he wasn't planning on touching anything and leaving evidence, though that had absolutely no bearing on whether or not his two henchmen would do the same. Joshua sighed lightly, crossing his arms in front of himself.

"Now, we've been running circles, all day, trying to find that bitch Miles talked about, but we've got nothing to show for it. Nothing. Nothing that she was even here, ever," Joshua muttered, shrugging, "Now, either Miles is lying- and I highly doubt that; he still has a wife and child to run home to- or that chick is hiding somewhere. We turned that entire town upside down lookin' for her-"

He dramatically rose his arms into the air as he shrugged, "-again, nothing."

"Now," he continued, directing his open palms toward himself for emphasis, " _I_ don't care whether or not she shrivels up, dead, in the middle of the desert. I just want to make sure that you're abiding by our little arrangement and aren't withhold information. We should trust one another, right? What was it that Sally said?"

Jesse's eyes grew vacant as he muttered in reply, "Trust each other."

"Ex-actly," Joshua smiled, waving for his two underlings to begin their operation, "Now, Pete and Victor are going to do another one-over on your home here, just to make sure everything is, uh, 'kosher', you know."

The two men fanned out, Jesse eyeing them through narrow eyes as they did so, making sure to keep as straight of a face as he could. Joshua, on the other hand, sighed in exhaustion as he noticed a chair lying somewhat beneath the pile of destruction from earlier, pulling it up and sitting down, lazily, crossing his legs as he whipped out a cigarette.

"Jesse, be a pal and get me a lighter, would you?"

With a droll expression, Jesse turned to leave the room, only for a moment, as he returned, tossing a lighter over toward the man, who returned an appreciative nod before lighting up, "Thanks. I tell you, no matter how hot it gets, there's nothing like a good swig, wouldn't you say?"

"I don't smoke," Jesse explained, emotionlessly.

Joshua clicked his tongue in sarcastic knowing, gently tapping his palm into his forehead, "That's right, that's right; Leslie hated that you did that. My bad."

He lackadaisically tossed the lighter over his shoulder as he finished, looking up at Jesse as he comfortable leaned his head back, "I _can_ trust you, right?"

"I suppose," Jesse shrugged, "I have no reason to lie."

Joshua pulled his cigarette from his mouth, pointing it toward Jesse, "See, I think you're wrong about that. You know why I let you keep that cube of yours, wherever it is now? Because I was meticulous, masterful even, about how to cripple you to your absolute weakest. I took your wife, your kids; I took everything from you _except_ that cube. Why? Because I know you want nothing more than to go back to that life. Escape this life a second time. Well, you know what? You can't have that either."

He sucked from his cigarette again, closing his eyes pleasurably, before continuing, "You can't hold somebody down without staying down with them. Luckily, I've nowhere to go, my friend."

Jesse eyed him angrily, his hand wanting nothing more to form, angrily, into a fist, though he already knew that any form of retaliation would be met with more pain inflicted upon him. Suddenly, a scraping sound began to his left, his head quickly turning to see one of the henchmen kicking the cube along the ground from out of the kitchen.

Joshua immediately sat up, intrigued by the device as the crony kicked it along, taking the cigarette from his mouth, "Well I'll be… Now, out of everything in this room, how did _this_ get into the kitchen? Hmm? Doing a little reminiscing, perhaps?"

Jesse watched the two, keeping as straight of a face as he could as the two men watched him, curiously. Out of nowhere, however, the second underling came from behind him, swinging a gun through the air and pistol whipping Jesse in the back of the head, forcing his body to collapse onto the floor with a massive *THUD*. Joshua made an immediate b-line toward him, falling onto one knee as he reached down, grabbing a handful of Jesse's hair and yanking his head up from the ground.

"Who's been here?" he demanded, allowing only an ounce of his anger to escape through his voice, "Somebody from Overwatch?"

Still left in a daze, Jesse barely even understood that he was being addressed, much less what the man's words were. Joshua stared at his face with dissatisfaction, dropping his head back onto the ground as he stood back up, shaking his head before turning toward the crony who'd hit him.

"Easier next time, please," Joshua sighed, "Now we can't get anything out of him. We'll come back tomorrow after he's recovered; I'm not about to run around after sundown. Although, if nothing were here in the morning, it'd just make our jobs easier…"

He dropped the cigarette from his fingers, watching as it hit the wooden floor beneath him, lazily kicking it to the side as it rolled down in between the cracks between planks, shrugging as he looked back up toward his underlings, "Well, let's get on out of here, I suppose. He's not going anywhere either."

With that, the three men made their own way out as Joshua pulled his black leather gloves back on, tilting his head to the side as if stretching out his neck before leaving, the two other men following suit, leaving Jesse huddled on the ground, lifelessly, all along to be incinerated by the coming fire.

* * *

Lena grimaced angrily as she listened to whoever-that-was speak to Jesse that way, her two fists clenched angrily as she tried all that she could to retain her emotions and keep from tearing through the floor. She could tell that Jesse was down and out, however, and know that she'd immediately be taken out anyway, though she quickly ran through all the scenarios that she could in her head, trying whatever she could to-

She felt a light tap onto her head, causing her to jump in surprise as she whipped her head around, half-expecting a ghost to have emerged behind her and tapped her, though she saw no such thing. She sighed, relieved, just as she heard the door close, signaling the thug's leaving. She groaned aloud, thinking of Jesse's condition as a new sensation emerged atop her head, her eyes growing wide as she painfully shot upward, her body hitting the floor above her as she cried out, both from the burning at her scalp and the shock from her back smashing against the floor.

"YOW!" she shouted out, brushing her hair, surprised to find a cigarette being tossed out and onto the ground, still steaming as she reached over with a fist, smashing it until its light was snuffed out completely, angrily looking up through the slats toward Jesse.

She frowned, unamused, "Emily's gonna kill me."

* * *

Jesse's eyes opened tiredly to the sight of Lena begrudgingly straightening up his miniscule living room, mumbling to herself with some unpleasant British slander. Lying on top of his couch, which had had all of its cushions knifed through, he turned his head upward, groaning aloud as a sharp pain rushed through his skull as he did so, alerting Lena to his having woken up.

"Oh! Morning!" she shouted, shaking her head, "Y'know how insane this place is, I'm finding out every other second?!"

"I told you to leave," Jesse complained, holding his hands up to the top of his head, trying to compress the pain away.

Lena only argued back, pulling the stool from the kitchen over as she sat beside him, "Nuh uh; now you've got _me_ in the thick of it. And because of _that_ , I'm going to need some answers."

"I told you," Jesse groaned, "Everything I said-"

"Some _real_ answers," Lena grumbled, childishly, "Who are those assholes? Why can't you leave here?"

She cocked her leg back, kicking Jesse's side as she shouted along, "Why- didn't- you- tell- me- you- had- a- family!"

Stopping after her point had been made, she stewed atop the stood, angrily giving Jesse the stare down, his lips twisted in pain from her assault as he spoke up, "Fine, fine…"

He groaned, dropping his arms to his sides as he began, "Those 'assholes' are from the Deadlock gang. Seems they took offense to me selling them out- go figure, right? As to why I can't leave- they killed my family. I can't leave until I've killed each of them. Simple as that."

While his nonchalance at saying that irked Lena, she'd seen enough violence that day to simply shrug it off, only lowering her shoulders defeatedly before reaching over for a bottle of whiskey she'd found in the kitchen, pouring a glass, "Well, you answered my question, so I figure you deserve something."

"Still training me, huh?" he managed, lightly, as he pushed himself up against the arm of the couch to accept the glass, "Thanks."

"I wouldn't have tried so hard to do so had I known you had a wife doing the same thing," Lena frowned, "You were a wild dog when you joined up- _I_ hadn't a choice."

Jesse grinned as he took a sip of his drink, "If it's in fairness, I was a wild dog when I met Leslie, too."

As the alcohol immediately began to work its numbing magic, Jesse shook his head to try and shake away his headache as Lena watched him, sadly, "What was she like?"

Sighing, Jesse's eyes escaped hers, trying to avoid the question, though Lena was onto him, "You don't get another glass until you answer."

"This is almost as bad as after that mission in Dorado," Jesse groaned, rubbing his face, allowing Lena a quick giggle as she recalled his reference.

He lowered his head, breath heavily leaving his nose as he shut his eyes, slowly speaking as his mind ached alongside his memories, "She was…different. She wasn't like any other woman I've met. I never thought such toughness could fit into such a beautiful package."

Lena reached over, gently pouring some more whiskey into his glass as he chuckled, watching her with plain eyes as he shook his head, "She broke me in like a wild horse. I did everything I could to not play by the book, and then she came along…."

He stopped, more to ensure he wouldn't begin to shed any tears, and sighed a bit, turning his body so that his feet could meet the ground, leaning over as he held his glass down between his legs, his elbow resting at his knee, "There is no forgiveness for what those men did. but that's why they did it- to keep me here. Trapped. Trapped by my sense of loyalty, which wasn't upheld in my relationship to the Deadlock gang. I guess it's poetic in a sense."

Lena leaned over toward him, "Well, I guess it's time to plan that vengeance of yours and get you out of here."

Jesse chuckled weakly, "Lena, those three men are more deadly than-"

"Oh, I heard you the first time," Lena nodded, "But I've got backup coming."

"Backup…" Jesse muttered, managing the slightest of grins as his mind wandered off.

He slowly stood up, clutching onto the arm of the couch to support his unsteady legs, muttering quietly to himself before turning toward Lena, "You get on the couch tonight. Omnics're out at night, so you're stuck here. You leave first thing tomorrow morning. Call off that 'backup'. This is my battle, alright? If I kill myself doing this, that's just as well; I'm not getting anybody else killed."

Lena jumped to her feet, "Hey! You wouldn't have gotten what you did if I hadn't been stupid enough to carry that block in there!"

"I don't blame you for that at all," he replied, "Who'd 've thought. Just-"

"Jesse!" Lena cried out, pleadingly, "Just let me help you! Don't you know, I looked up to you! You were like a big brother to me! You couldn't do a single thing wrong; you were my hero on that squad! Don't you understand how much it hurts me to see you like this?!"

Her words seemed to faze him, as he paused, staring down at the ground, distantly. His head began to turn over his shoulder, weakly enough, though he quickly abandoned the effort, returning to looking ahead as he slowly walked toward the open door to the other room. Lena's shoulders dropped at just how defeated he appeared, her eyes narrowing tearfully as he stopped himself in the doorway, holding onto the doorframe to steady himself.

"You sound just like her," he spoke up, his voice almost ghostly as he turned his head toward her, "She said that she loved me. That she wanted to fight my demons at my side…"

His eyes closed, slightly, as he stared deeply toward Lena, "Do you want to see what demons your 'hero' faces, now?"

Lena's brow turned up, worriedly, at his cryptic speech, though her head inevitably nodded, unable to fight off the curiosity swelling up within her. Even more so than that, she knew that, while he refused to allow her to help, perhaps she could help him with whatever was ailing his mind. That, something so intangible, he couldn't stop her if she truly wanted to help him.

Little did she know, his demon was far from intangible…

He waved her along as he continued on, the two of them walking through a bed room before turning through another door, into a hallway that linked the bedroom and the kitchen behind the living room, leading to two other rooms, it seemed, though Jesse stopped in the middle of the hallway, in front of an empty wall. Lena watched, curiously, as he knelt down, his fingers running along the floor along the wall, finally coming to what he was looking for.

As he stood back up, he pulled up the bottom of a wooden panel that fit perfectly into the wall- Lena hadn't even noticed it. Pulling it away revealed a hidden door, and as Jesse rested the panel against the opposing wall, he stared at Lena's wide-eyed expression with his own distant look.

"You want a glimpse at my demons?" he asked, again, "Go on and look inside."

Lena felt her throat tighten as she stared at the door, her arms unable to move as she noticed the look on Jesse's face- a look so distant it almost terrified her, as if she was staring at a corpse sitting inside of a coffin. Impatiently, Jesse turned toward the door, grabbing the handle himself.

"Well?" he questioned, seriously.

A chill ran down Lena's body as she managed a nod, allowing Jesse to yank the door open, the wooden contraption swinging into the wall with a loud *THUD* as Lena's eyes broken open as wide as they could have been, her jaw dropping as she stared at the man sitting inside the room, hunched over himself, sitting on a chair which his arms seemed to be strapped to, behind him. His hair had grown long, into dark, tendril-like vines that fell down past his face, quivering in time with his shoulders as he breathed weakly, almost as if having been kept in some state of stasis, just barely hovering between life and death.

"J-Jess…" Lena horrifically muttered, the man's body jerking at the sound of somebody else's voice.

He appeared just able to lift his head, Lena just able to make out his dark eyes as they appeared through his messy hair, nearly stabbing her with their piercingly haunted gaze. She felt her heart skip a beat, unable to take in what she was seeing. Unable to understand how the hero she'd once loved to much could turn into such a monster.


	9. Just the Faintest Flicker of Light

Lena's face didn't leave the tin can sitting on the table in front of her for more than a handful of times, only stealing the occasional glance to see what Jessie was doing when a sudden whirr or clanking of silverware broke the silence. Even without the ghastly meal placed before her, she hadn't the appetite to eat much of anything, instead choosing to stare into the canister of brown slop that Jesse had referred to as 'chili', though Lena seriously couldn't make heads or tails of it, seeing as how the label had been torn off.

There had been more to the meal, of course, though the reason she'd been given food despite her lack of an appetite in the first place was in hoping for something she could hide as contraband, and sure enough, the 'chili' had been accompanied by some small, shiny, wrapped-up packages with peanuts inside, though the peanuts were surrounded by chocolate and caramel, making the nutritional value rather negligible. Still, she'd hidden the few candies away in her pocket, more determined to find out about _that man_ than anything else.

"There's one of 'em…" Jesse suddenly muttered, quietly.

Standing at the kitchen sink with his arms crossed, his index finger lazily clutching to an empty mug of coffee, he was turned away from Lena, peering out through the window into the vastly dark expanse that trapped him as much as it seemed to protect him. He pulled a hand out from his arm and reached over to the wall, flipping a light switch that suddenly darkened the entire kitchen, forcing Lena to look up in curiosity as the entire house was now encased in shadow.

Jesse went on, unenthused, "See those two pairs a' lights? Those are omnic eyes. Judgin' from its speed, probably some kind of quadrupedal beast of a thing."

Along the horizon, the two lights dimmed as the omnic's head lowered, faintly illuminating the ground beneath its feet, examining the sand for whatever caught its fancy. Slowly, its head arose once again, staring out into the vast darkness, pitter-pattering off with a lankish gait as if merely traversing the landscape for nothing in particular.

"If the lights're on, they like to stick around," Jesse explained, pulling his arms apart and bending over the sink to rinse out his mug, "One of 'em took out the back fence in a frenzy a while back. Had to pull out my rifle for the first time in…oh, two years? Damn thing nearly got me; I forgot how difficult they are to destroy."

"Where did he come from?" Lena asked, lips curling in regret at forcing herself to ask about _that man_ in the secret room.

Jesse shrugged, shutting the faucet off and hanging the mug on a hook on the wall, "I guess Detroit; I wasn't about to tear it apart to find a serial number or anything."

"Not that," Lena replied, looking up to Jesse with a confused look on her face.

He turned toward her, a sincerely lost look on his face as if the man had completely left his mind. He bit his lip as he ran a hand along his cheek, his nerves lighting up at the touch of his stubble, trying to figure out what she had meant when he suddenly turned his head to the back hallway, groaning.

"Oh, _him._ He was just passing by; I literally just ran into him at a diner in town," he explained, simply, "I keep up enough with Overwatch, even out here, 'specially when it's _my_ case."

Lena eyed him, continuing, "Who is he?"

Jesse sighed, crossing his arms once again as he leaned back against the counter, knowing he'd all but invited her to pry when he had accepted her help, "Michael. Hale. He's American-born, which explains why he's _here_ , but spent some time teaching in France. Paris, specifically. Overwatch was able to ascertain that he had been in contact with one Amelie Guillard for some time, right before she vanished after murdering her husband. Obviously, we needed to talk to him, but conveniently enough, he had disappeared as well."

"So," Jesse went on, "Being a person of extreme interest, I had no option but to apprehend him."

Lena's face fell, shaking in disagreement as she sighed, "No doubt calling upon your own experience in Blackwatch in regards to skirting proper protocol and basic human rights as they relate to prisoners."

Jesse shrugged easily, "Somebody's gotta scoop up the shit you all don't want on your hands. They might have put your bodies on monuments, but we were the ones who built them, whether any of you like to admit it or not."

He noticed Lena's face falling, returning to its downturned stare as she felt the spirit within her begin to wane at his words. Jesse merely sighed, reaching up both of his eyes, rubbing both his eyes with the butt of his hands below the palms before spinning around, returning to his staring out the kitchen window.

"Nothing to look up to now, huh?" he wondered, more or less asking himself, recognizing his own bitterness, "I never asked for that sort of shit. Not from you, or him."

Lena's ear perked up at that mi or tidbit just as Jesse began to wander off back into the living room, just a black silhouette in the darkness still as Lena remained in her seat, pulling her can of chili closer to her. She heard the worn springs of the couch squeak beneath Jesse's weight, allowing her the chance to get to work, figuring he was going to sleep.

She pushed her chair back, rising to her feet as she spoke up, "I'm gonna get some air."

"Just watch for any headlights," Jesse warned lazily, already comforting himself as he lay there, apparently.

Lena nodded to herself, turning to the opposite end of the kitchen and making her way through the backdoor, sighing loudly now that she had the chance, sitting on the worn steps just outside and whipping out her phone with a frown. She thought back at her unsuccessful rendezvous with the infamous assassin Windowmaker. Would Jesse have been forced to become such a monster had she been able to capture her then?

She absently scrolled through her phone, her thumb wagging unsurely above Angela's picture as she weighed her urgency at needing answers, just barely tapping at the doctor's face to send her phone into call mode. Lena peered up toward the starlit sky, feeling about as empty as she had ever been, missing so much her home. Even with a familiar face just inside, _this_ McCree was so foreign to anything she'd ever known of him.

"Lena, I'm not going to tell you again: stop calling me just before I head on home; I just want to-!"

"Mercy…"

The doctor paused immediately, hearing the tremble in Lena's voice, replying in a softer tome, "Tracer? What's wrong?"

Lena rubbed her face with her hand, groaning as she thought to herself, "Can you pull some stuff up for me?"

Angela spoke haltingly, "What kind of stuff…"

"Sorta confidential stuff," Lena admitted.

A massive sigh came from the phone, leading to a long pause from the doctor, after a moment leading to a quiet reply, "…hold on."

Lena smiled gently at Angela's sentiment, "Thanks."

"Hey, I'm not the one thousands of miles above the Atlantic headed to a warzone. If it helps Pharah out, I'd dose Winston with some peanut butter and hop on his computer if need be," Angela complained as she walked, her voice audibly shaking as she speedily made her way through wherever she was.

Lena replied, "Actually, it might be better if she not show up, but… I'll keep her on call, just in case."

"Not needed?"

"Well," Lena sighed, "There's more going on than we knew. Did you know Jesse even had a family?"

Angela didn't immediately reply, though Lena heard distant speaking through the receiver, before Angela began again, quieter, "Oh yeah. Well, just their names. It was all he'd put on his insurance forms. If my memory were more photographic, I'd be able to tell- is that why I'm being asked to go through the ninth floor?!"

Despite being thousands of miles away, Lena visibly turned her head from side to side in an innocent showing as she meandered to a reply, "W-Well, er… Nooooo…"

Angela groaned, "Well I'm already here, so you'd better come up with something else. Let me just pull up his file and… Here: Leslie, his wife, and two sons, Anthony and Joshua. He did put 'Josh' underneath as his nickname, though. Did you meet any of them?"

Lena bit her bottom lip, "Well, uh… I think they're, uh…"

She didn't need to complete the sentence before Angela halted her typing, leaving the two in utter silence across both sides of the phone, Lena in uncertainty and Angela in disbelief.

"What- What happened?" Angela finally managed to ask, almost in a quiet panic.

"I don't know, that's what I'm trying to figure out," Lena groaned, "Anything else over there?"

Angela returned to silence as she clacked at the keyboard, faster now, trying to hunt down what information she could, finally stumbling across something, "Oh. Here, in his deposition upon first joining Overwatch. He mentions his brother having died being one of the reasons he defected.

"Wow…" Lena whispered to herself listlessly, her body slumping down further between her knees, sadly musing loud enough for Angela to hear over the phone, "He's lost everyone here…"

She peered off into the distance, her eyelids dropped before her as she thought of Jesse living out here, in this barren desert of nowhere, raising a family, having a brother, and them all passing away, all without nary a whisper from Jesse himself. And even then, here he was, trying to defeat the last vestiges of the Deadlock gang, while simultaneously fulfilling his duty to Ana and Overwatch. This man was bound by transcendent loyalty, she thought; how could they have doubted his allegiance for a single moment?

"This is his battle," Lena spoke up quietly, "Let Pharah come out, but… Maybe just see what he does."

"What am I doin'?" came Jesse's voice from behind, forcing Lena to pounce into the air like a frightened cat, bursting through the air in a flash of blue before reappeared up atop the roof, her hands both latched onto two shingles, prepared to throw them at the slightest provocation.

Jesse swiped her phone as it fell toward the ground, having been abandoned by its owner, before raising it to his face with a droll expression, "Hi, Z."

"Jess."

"You wouldn't be snitchin' on me, now would ya, darlin'?"

Angela cracked a sarcastic chuckle just before a scoff, "Pfft, the only thing I'd snitch about is your propensity for martyrdom and stupidity. No wonder you took to Reyes so quick."

The scraggly cowboy merely smirked at her words, watching Lena as she shimmied down the gutter toward the ground, tossing the phone toward her as she freed herself to the ground with a relieved sigh, "Huh? You hung up?"

Jesse shrugged as he sat on his back porch, "If I did, I didn't mean to. What the hell were you two speakin' about anyway? I only caught the last bit."

"Hey, you weren't supposed to catch any of it! I thought you were asleep!" Lena complained, as if innocent of talking about Jesse behind his back.

Eyeing her skeptically, Jesse spoke with a gravelly voice, "I _just_ told you about an omnic trashin' the place back here and the first thing you do is escape back to the same place. Besides, I know your heart's too pure for most of what you've just found out about my situation. I was kind of hopin' you were takin' off."

"I wouldn't do that," Lena confirmed, nervously lowering her head to eye her phone as Jesse tilted himself forward to shield his lighter from the gust of wind that traveled by, catching his cigarette alight while Lena counted the increasing numbers beside Angela's head, having only muted her speaker instead of hanging up.

"Well, the more you learn about Blackwatch," Jesse sighed, simultaneously sneaking a massive swig from his cigarette as he leaned back against the door, "The more you learn that, for every part of someone you think you know, there's just as much you don't."

"Yeah, like a family, apparently," Lena frowned.

Jesse only chuckled lightly at her statement, shaking his head, rolling it along the wooden frame behind him, "Exactly. I thought the farther they were from Overwatch, the safer they'd be, but… We all know how that turned out."

Sadly, Lena made her way to he small steps that made up his porch, sitting beside him while crossing her arms, "What were they like?"

He grinned, "You tryin' to catch a cowboy cryin'? That's about as likely as a hare runnin' abisselfa."

"Running _what_?!" Lena wondered loudly, spinning her head toward the man who simply chuckled at such a reaction.

"It ain't gonna happen, what I'm sayin'," he confirmed in common English.

Lena sighed in exasperation as she rolled her eyes, falling forward, making sure to keep her phone obscured from Jesse's view. Angela remained on the line, though had sent an email to communicate, Lena's eyes running across the darkly lit screen: [Abisselfa- by ones' self]. Her eyes dropped, Angela's text having helped little, and she merely picked herself back up beneath the guise of simply needing a stretch.

Jesse's cigarette singed quietly as he took a sip of its tonic, a lowly sort of sigh escaping as he released a plume of its smoke into the air, reaching a hand up to scratch his shoulder.

"You think I'm bad, huh."

Lena's lips spun to the side, "How did you come to that conclusion?"

Jesse half-shrugged, "It happens to most people; you get to know that look of shock. You wore it after I showed you that man- sort of a depraved sort of shock, like you can't believe a man could act in that sort of way."

Unable to find the words to speak, having suddenly removed that moment from just an hour or so ago, Lena simply lowered her gaze toward the ground, sliding her foot along the dirt beneath her as though attempting to distract herself from the ghastly appearance of that man.

[what man?]

Jesse sighed, shaking his head, "One of the reasons I like it out here, always have, is just how simple it is. Overwatch was all bureaucrats and getting little done- again, part of why I liked Blackwatch. We could torture criminals for answers, hunt down corruption, kill murders; Reyes and us, we could actually get stuff done while Morrison and you all had to wait for tape to be drawn up and cut. Of course, that just meant you all got the credit while we remained in the shadows."

He grinned, reaching into a pocket, "Out here, you actually get rewarded for riding the line out in the open. After the Omniums started up, civilization moved to the massive cities, leaving the outlying world without law enforcement, libraries, schools, utilities; we had to make our own law and order."

"Here," he muttered, tossing a small, shining object into the air for Lena to grab in mid-air, her eyes examining the badge-like object as Jesse continued, "Duelist badges. Present these to somebody you've got beef with, they have to duel. Winner gets the badge, loser gets an afterlife."

Lena's eyes slowly wandered up toward him with a distant air, "…how many of these have you gotten?"

"On my person? or all-time?" Jesse wondered, sincerely.

She groaned, "You make it sound like a sport."

"Nah," Jesse clarified simply, taking another swig, "I only take out bad guys. This one's special anyway."

"How so?"

Jesse grimaced as he reached over to retrieve the badge, stuffing it back into his pocket with a shake of his head, "That's for me to know. and for you to not find out."

Lena frowned, "So what if I just happened to steal this and challenge _you_?"

"Then I'd have to kill you."

Taken aback, Lena felt her body tense up, though Jesse's remained as calm as it'd ever been, "I've got more to do with my life. and I certainly don't plan on anything, even you, stopping me. Good example of how that works though; the only reason we weren't murders in Blackwatch was simply because we were backed by the powers that be. At the flip of a coin, we could have easily been enemies to everything Overwatch stood for- they just decided we were convenient for them."

"They?" Lena wondered, skeevily, as though catching something he was trying to slip in beneath the radar.

He grinned, "Well, I figured I needed to start disassociating you from my bitterness toward that life. While Overwatch has many fools, it still is home to a few heroes."

Unable to keep from releasing a sweet smile herself, Lena turned away to avoid her former associate from teasing her or anything, "This desert's got a few heroes too, you know."

She heard a massive sigh from behind her, offering the respect of not turning around to see a face that, undoubtably, Jesse wouldn't want seen, judging from his darkly lonesome voice, "Anthony would say the same thing."

Lena felt a chill run down her spine as Jesse inhaled sharply through his nose, pulling out his cigarette and flicking it off into the distance, getting quite a lot of yardage out of the action, "He said he wanted me to quit, too. Was the one habit my wife let me keep around her, and here comes a son, making the demand for her. He was looking around online, trying to be like me, but came across how bad it was and said he'd rather me be safe than cool."

"Joshua wasn't a few years old at the time; I barely even knew him. Rips my heart out every day knowing I can't conjure up everything I wish I could about him."

Other than a wavering voice at times, Lena couldn't hear much in the way of the man crying, figuring his word was sound, though also didn't feel comfortable enough to do much of anything other than simply remain there, horrified that Jesse was speaking such things to one more person than he was expecting. She turned her eyes down just low enough to catch the last few messages.

[TRACER!]

[WHAT MAN!]

[TELL ME!}

She cringed before lowering her thumb, ending the call and shutting off the phone silently, dropping it back down as her arms weakly slid down between her knees.

"That man who showed up and beat me. the Deadlock guy," Jesse spoke up, quietly, "That's my brother."

Lena's body whipped around, a look of sheer astonishment covering her face, "What..? I thought he'd died."

He grinned, "Ah, so that's what you 'n 'Z' were discussin', huh?"

Currently done with allowing any sort of explanatory action shifted from Jesse to her, Lena bit back, "Don't change the subject! Again, 'what'?"

"I _thought_ he had died," Jesse explained, "When I joined- that's why I did it. I hadn't a thing to tie me down here at the time after he'd supposedly died. He'd gotten lost after a fire-fight with a rival gang; he'd been gone for weeks, what was I supposed to think?"

He shrugged, "Reyes offered me a better life if I sold out the Gang, atone for my past sins. Without my brother, I hadn't a goddamn second thought about those people; figured I'd get while the getting was good. Came back home after the disbanding, got married, had kids; then my brother finds me. Says he needs _me_ to atone for selling out the gang, and him, the gang he single-handedly brought back to prominence after Overwatch took 'em out."

Lena's brow rose sadly as she put the piece together she was most concerned about at this moment, "So… So your brother, killed-"

"My wife and children, yes," Jesse finished, "Said I took his life 'n so he had to take mine."

Lena jumped up to her feet, holding one arm akimbo as she thrust a finger toward Jesse, earning a confused stare from the man in the process, "Then why are you bloody sitting around letting them beat you up?! Why don't you kill 'em back?!"

Jesse's eyes fell, his head following suit, before answering her with a sullen voice that Lena hadn't ever heard before from anybody, "Leslie."

As Lena's hand reached up to scratch her neck, she wore a concerned face, watching Jesse light up, pawing at his pocket for another cigarette that wasn't there. In the orange haze of flame, Lena's heart dropped as his once dead-eyes shivered, surrounded by the darkness.

"She swore me to never kill again," he muttered, reaching up to rub his mouth as if it were a tick from not having nicotine at the moment, "She let me smoke. if only I never take another life. Said as much as she wanted to take hold of my life and shield me from my demons, she knew she couldn't. I guess it's a bit poetic if I slowly take my own with these things rather than take anybody else's."

He went on, slowly, "Loyalty's all I've got now. Loyalty to a dead wife. a dead son. At least with that man in there, I'm loyal to something with a pulse."

Jesse went on scratching himself as his jitters increased, forcing him to slowly make his way up to his feet with a groan, ignoring the creaking of his bones as he did so, "I need to find another smoke. Stay out here as long as you'd like, or, please, get on out of here."

"You think you can get rid of me that easy after spilling all of that?" Lena asked, heartlessly.

He grinned, "No, I suppose not. Doesn't change the fact that this isn't your fight."

As he stepped up toward the back door, slowly swinging it open, he took a foothold in the door before stopping for a moment, lowering his head in thought as if assorting his next words before speaking, "If it's all the same to Overwatch, I'm not interested in helping that thing that claims to be Gabriel Reyes. I'd much rather they leave me alone to die out here so that I can be with my family one last time."

With that, he continued into his home, pushing the door back behind him, leaving Lena with her hand supporting her elbow as her hand cupped her chin in worry. She rushed to pull her phone back out, ignoring the massive chain of texts coming from a very upset Angela, scrolling almost aimlessly throughout the device before finally stopping on Emily's picture, stopping herself just before sending out the call, her forehead sunken in worry. Slowly, her thumb fell in line beside the phone, her eyes shutting as tears welled up above her cheeks, remembering protocol. Nobody on assignment was allowed to call a loved one, lest a signal get crossed somewhere.

As she stood there nearly drowning in tears, Lena couldn't help but think of violating that rule. She'd never needed to hear her voice as much as right in that moment.

* * *

 _ **A/N: I'm back! Thank you all for waiting on me to continue this! I had just sort of gotten burned out on Overwatch and decided to take a break and work on other stuff (finishing my massive Warcraft story, and actually doing two 'Breath of the Wild' tales O.o) However, I must continue this collection of stories! While I'm still quite sick of Corner-Bastion and Corner-Orisa camping the final point, I'm not at all sick of the characters or story of Overwatch :p**_

 _ **So, just a quick recap of what I've got going on in this universe, just as much for me as for you guys: In the grand scheme of this major storyline, after 'Deadlocked' there's two final stories- a Talon-exclusive, which sort of sets their stage for the finale story afterwards. I cannot tell you guys how many ideas I've conjured up since the last time I'd seriously planned on getting to write those, and for all intents and purposes, it's gonna be a wild ride! I have definite plans in including Moira to the story, however, I'm not entirely sure if/how Doomfist will fit in as anything more than a side character, but I'll have to reexamine that as my Talon story comes along. I did see Infinity War, so I'm sure I can think of something :p**_

 _ **Blizzard also announced Wrecking Ball today. Considering the darkening tone of this storyline, I think I missed the boat when it comes to including a hamster scientist :p**_

 _ **Aside from all this, I also have 'Primage', which is a 'seafaring Pharmercy' tale. I'd like to finish that up, especially since I have some nice ideas for it as well, though, with it being a complete departure from everything else, I don't feel all that compelled to write it as often (or at all, at this point, unless somebody legitimately wants me to be doing so)**_

 _ **'Days in the Life' is supposed to be more light-hearted and comedic, and while it's currently just another Pharmercy fic (can you guess how much I like the pairing?) it's supposed to be a collection of any Overwatch shipping stories that I might come up with. So after Pharmercy, I'm sure Mei and Junkrat will be getting into trouble. Back when I was writing 'Madness', the pairing seemed to be a bit too childish for romance, but as I've mulled over stuff, I can kind of see it as being more mature, I suppose, so we'll see.**_

 _ **Finally, my story, I'm too excited for words about it. Honestly, I've never been more apprehensive to write a story simply because I may not do my ideas for it justice, but hopefully, I can craft something wildly epic when I get around to it. I constantly am hearing epic pieces of music and thinking of scenes from the story I have in my head, and I'm just flabbergasted. I'm hoping beyond hope that it can be as amazing for you guys when I get around to finishing it :D**_

 _ **'Gravitate' is just there. Sorry Zarya... Someday, hopefully.**_

 _ **Anyway, thank you for your time xD Despite the memes, Overwatch isn't dead, at least not in my mind, and I can't wait to complete some of these stories for you guys! Thank you so much for the time, and even for ALL THE FOLLOWS AND REVIEWS FOR OLDER STUFF! Honestly, after your writing gets off the first page here, I have no idea how people find my old stories, but they do, apparently O.o I'm still getting people liking and following 'Reign From Above', which was forever ago O.o So literally, if you're old OR new, thank you so much for the support! For somebody who's not good at much of anything, your kind words mean the absolutely world to me, and I can't begin to thank you all enough.**_

 _ **Now go make some Wrecking Ball fan-art, won't you! :p**_


	10. The Old Guard

Mei happily reached her hands up to take a bite of her sandwich as she and Jamison walked through the Gibraltar facility, the Australian tech-whiz too busy messing around with some contraption in his hands, finagling some springs and bolts back into the tiny case that was nearly to burst. He grinned appreciatively as he managed to shut the thing, tossing it up into the air as his pegged leg clacked with every step. Mei's attention snapped down to his artificial limb, her face turning sadly at the sight.

"We could make you a better leg, you know," Mei frowned.

Jamison smirked, "Oh, I don't doubt that a bit, sheila."

Having missed her insinuation, Junkrat meandered alongside Mei, earning him a particularly droll stare from her as she deepened her voice to clarify, "I _mean_ , we could make one to replace that. It would be worlds better; we could literally put a spring in your step!"

His head rolled upward as he seemingly considered her words, only answering, "Well I dunno. This was the first thing I eva' built, really. I mean, it's gone through some upgrades, but it's pretty much the same thing I strapped togetha' after the Omnium blew."

Nervously, his eyes jumped toward Mei as his head swung around, "Un-Unless this is one of yer puns or somethin'! You mean like havin' a plant fertilizer attachment, right? _That_ kind of spring, right?"

Mei smiled, "While I do like that one, you should know by now that I don't mind hearing anything about you. even the sentimental stuff. We're partners now, right?"

Her eyes shut as she released a massive, agreeable smile, leaving her blind to Jamison's face as it fell. She reached out a fist, which he barely managed to tap with his own, his face turning eschew as a conversely displeased frown wore its way onto him.

"Honestly, I'm putting out my best work having you here! I knew that indelible mind would be put to good use with a budget that would make designers cry!" Mei proudly proclaimed, whipping forth from her yeti-esque coat a tablet that she immediately took to task, swiping along from one border to another, "That portable de-sal station was genius! You know how much salt water you could make fresh in that thing?"

Jamison gently rubbed his neck, trying to disguise his nerves, "A-A lot?"

"A ton!" Mei shouted in reply, "Like, dare I say… Oodles! And that chronal accelerator that you helped me finalize? Boom; we've already seen _that_ pay dividends. Lena's dashing around like nobody's business thanks to you!"

She shot him a quick wink, "You're the best, Jamie!"

Despite her enthusiasm, Jamison couldn't help but feel himself forcing the smile that shone on his face.

Mei marched along, carefully disposing of the plastic wrap that had covered her sandwich before wiping the crumbs from her hands by vigorously rubbing her hands up and down her coat, "Are you sure you didn't want anything for lunch? Winston says you need eight square meals a day, though he's also upwards of nearly four hundred pounds of gorilla muscle, so."

"Nah, it's all good," Jamison muttered, nervously scratching at his scalp as he waited for Mei to return before walking along, "Roadhog's kind of on the up-'n-up down in Junkertown; he's s'posed ta be getting some stuff delivered before heading back with the chopper. Guess your boss was a tad tantalized by Aussie cuisine. even if it's a bit different from before the Omnium. A jar o' Vegemite fetches a kidney up in Melborne."

Mei returned to her tablet as the two continued along the hallway, "Well, if you need any, let me know; I have some friends who can graft anything for human use inside of pigs. They have the Ziegler Seal of Approval, even! Says she hasn't seen a natural human heart be nearly as flexile as one grown in a pig!"

His teeth clutching at his bottom lip, Jamison bent low as he walk, wrapping his arms around his stomach, "Y'know, even that Junkertown food isn't soundin' all that great now…"

Mei smiled as she helpfully went along, "Well, if you need anything in a few hundred kilometer radius, Overwatch holds the most advanced technology when it comes to- Captain Morrison?!"

Jamison's eyes tightened in confusion, "What, you guys have a V8 engine in a human too? or, uh-"

His eyes rose to meet the man walking just toward them, certainly of an old sort, not only attested by his white hair, but by the insane number of scars that lined any part of his body where skin was exposed. Jamison nearly recoiled at the sight, but Mei's exuberant leap toward Morrison caused him to remain in place, watching in awe as she approached the rigidly unapproachable man as though it were second nature.

"Captain Morrison!" she cried out happily, stomping to the ground as she landed with both feet, taking care not to instinctively hug him after not having seen him in years.

The man only nodded, not breaking his gait, as he replied to her sternly, though with something of a warmth there, as though he were only conditioned to speak without emotion, "Doctor. Good to see this place is still standing with you here."

"Ooooh, c'mon," Mei's voice smoothly leaving her as she sidled closer to Captain Morrison, "Lemme see that smile."

His head turned down to meet hers, the Captain's face still as stony as a rockface, "I don't smile. You may get a sneer, _maybe_ a simper; I don't do smiles."

Without a muscle moving upon his face, Morrison only finished with, "If I could, I would do it for you, Dr. Zhou."

Mei hopped in place, clapping rapidly as a blush radiated across her happily smiling face, "So cool!"

As Morrison threw his shoulder up to adjust the duffel bag he'd been carrying there, he gave a quick wink toward Jamison, catching the junker off guard, "Always have a line at the ready. You're the new guy, huh?"

"Y-Yes, Captain!" Jamison answered nervously.

Morrison's brow jumped mildly in surprise, "So many newbies lately… Oh, and it's Jack. Please. I may not have an engine in me- in fact, whatever engine we humans normally have, mine's about out. At any given time, there's enough drugs in me to fell an elephant. If you get a chance, watch Winston while I'm in combat- I'm told it's truly a scene."

"W-W-Will do, sir!- er, Jack!" Jamison stuttered.

"Good lad," Jack finished, stopping at a closed door before turning to examine Jamison, who'd all but closed much of the distance between them, the junker standing and peering at the soldier with a reverent steel.

Jack gave him a moment to gain his bearings, but ultimately spoke up, an impatient timbre escaping him unintentionally, "This is my room."

"Oh!" Jamison shouted in a startle, "Yes sir! Jack! er, sorry."

The old man shrugged, lowering her arm as his duffel bag slid off his shoulder, swinging at his side to a stop, "Loosen up. You're no good to anybody if your nerves are out of whack. Work on it."

Jamison nodded rapidly as Jack entered his room, staring aghast as the door slid shut and just now taking a deep breath as Mei rushed toward him, eye alight like a fan girl, "Oh my god, he gave you battle advice! He's _so_ cool, isn't he?!"

"No wonder you joined," Jamison observed with a disheartened tone, "All these guys are pretty cool…"

Mei scurried along down the hallway in a blissful trance, "Oh man, when Lena finally brings Jesse back! Gosh, it'll be like a-! Well, like something really, really cool!"

Jamison followed along, shoving his hands in his pockets and slumping over disappointedly, keeping his head low as Mei went along with her regaling of Overwatch members, new and old, that she admired on varying merits, his eyelids shrinking further and further as his sadness grew alongside his awareness of his own inadequacy. His eyes carefully shifted up toward Mei as she happily charged along, not a care in the world; a perfect pair to the chaos-incarnate that was within his own self, though that was merely a pipe dream, particularly now. He only allowed himself to watch listlessly her ravenous energy manifested in her wildly swaying arms, her dark hair hanging down past her shoulders. How often he thought of touching such softness whenever he stood beside her in the frigid laboratory.

"Winston!" Mei proclaimed as she rounded the corner that lead into the control room, sliding to an abrupt halt, leaving Jamison curious as to her reaction, already thoughtful of how lost his mind had been just a moment ago in thinking about her.

He poked his head around the wall to see what had brought his partner to a stop, his eyes settling heavily on Angela, whose arms were angrily outstretched in furious wonderment, "-just gonna leave it be?!"

"Look, Angela," Winston replied, "Until I hear anything in the way of distress from Lena, I'm not going to shake up her operation. Is there an anomaly we weren't expecting? Possibly. but I trust Lena's judgement. If it makes you feel any better, I slide the same judgement in regards to Fareeha's involvement in this- I won't have her engage unless under Lena's suggestion to do so. Believe it or not, she _is_ more senior than either of you."

Winston grinned amusedly as Angela's mouth widened as her brow shrunk angrily, prepared to let loose a verbal fireball, before stopping herself, lowering her stance with a groan, "Winston, I'm not concerned about Fareeha; she can take care of herself, and we both understood, plainly, that Overwatch is larger than either of us. But I know Lena; she's not looking at any of this from any other angle besides the one she entered with. What if something is afoul and she isn't able to- What if she's refusing to recognize it?"

"I trust her," Winston nodded, "That's the end of it."

Crossing her arms, Angela shrugged, "I hope you know what you're- Oh, hello Mei, Jamison."

The conversation reaching its conclusion, Mei left the corner and started toward the two, covering her mouth as she cleared her throat, "Er, Jack's here. I don't know if you knew; I know he enjoys showing up unannounced."

"Perfect," Angela nodded, pulling a clipboard from a nearby desk and readying it at her side as she started out of the control room, "Maybe somebody who'll understand my apprehension."

As Angela set off, Winston shook his head in dismay, quickly deferring his attention to the two newcomers, "Mei-Ling, Jamison. You two cook up anything crazy lately?"

Mei quickly shoved her hands into the front pockets of her coat, turning her eyed into a sidelong glance, almost suspiciously, "Any reason why Angela's already back from Headquarters?"

"Nothing in particular," Winston replied sincerely, "We were just going over Lena's current assignment. Something about Jesse mentioning-"

Winston's bulky frame leaned to one side as he eyed Jamison, leaving Mei to unleash a quick thumbs-up, alongside a measuring, "Don't worry; he's all good with this stuff."

"Hmm…" Winston mused, but quickly returned to his previous thought, "Well there's a "man" involved that we hadn't accounted for that Jesse mentioned. No context, no explanation, nothing. So while I'll be keeping more of an eye on things, I'm not going to do anything rash. Dr. Harold didn't mean for me to be an ape, you know. Fareeha will be close by should anything arise."

Mei's fingers curled around her chin, her eyes narrowed in thought, "Did she leave a recording or anything?"

"Actually, yes," Winston answered, "Standard procedure when speaking to any operatives in the field. Why? you think you can pull anything from it?"

"I can certainly try! If not, Jamie and I can run some presets over it or something. Roadhog has another day or so in the infirmary before Angela allows him to leave; he might be able to do some software stuff himself," Mei explained.

Winston nodded, eyeing Jamison once again, though this time in approval, "Hmm, alright. If you can get a location or anything of note, that would help. Oh, and give Fawkes my thanks; he helped with a glitch in Athena. I don't know how you managed to stumble upon these two, but they're both proven quite resourceful."

Mei grinned widely as she threw an arm around Jamison's back, as if proudly displaying the suddenly red-faced man in a pageant, " _Very_ resourceful! I'll be sure to get to him before he returns to Junkertown. In the meantime, Jamie, if you would?"

She motioned for Jamison to lead the way, which he did after giving a respectful tip of his head toward Winston, who responded in kind, though after just a few steps of taking the lead, Mei quickly hurried past him, unable to contain her excitement at getting back to 'official' business, leaving Jamison to quickly scurry along behind her, just able to keep up with her reckless abandon. Even in such a rush, he couldn't help but find it quite fetching, in more ways than this one.

* * *

Angela stood at Jack's door, her lips turned in apprehension as she clutched onto her clipboard, counting in her head to try and ward off any malicious thoughts that might arise, her mind having inevitably begun to relive the last meeting these two had had. They hadn't ever gotten along so well; while Angela and Ana could have barked and shouted at one another for hours, in the end, their opinions mattered little when Captain Jack Morrison was the man in charge of making decisions. A man behind a gun himself, he often sided with Ana, leaving him rather high on Angela's list of 'Distasteful Former Colleagues'. In the old days, however, while Ana would remain wound up at all times, Jack would practice the humanity of showing his lighter side when off-assignment, revealing himself to be far more than a face behind a firearm.

That was years ago, however. and the last time she'd seen his face, their meeting had been on far less amicable terms.

Before she could decide to reach toward the door, Angela received as it powerfully slid open, revealing Jack himself, standing just a foot or two away, clad in sweat clothes, complete with dark sweatband slung around his forehead. She resisted the urge to chuckle, or even reveal so much as a change in expression, as Jack stared down at her behind sunglasses, the whole scene making him appear far more his out-of-touch age than anything to do with his colorless hair.

"Jack."

"Z."

"Been staying out of trouble?"

His shoulder rolled as he stretched the muscles at his neck, peering off, "Trying to."

"My newspapers have said otherwise. Pretty nifty stunt over in Dorado," Angela explained, Jack's eyes rolling invisibly behind his dark shades.

"So what?"

Angela tilted her head with a mischievous grin, "I've got to keep an eye out for all my creations. I've done so much work on you people, you all might as well be my own works of art or something."

"Good to know you're working your magic on the new guy," Jack grumbled, though more to accentuate his own gravelly voice, "I still sound like a cretin."

"I told you, you can't have any more surgeries until your blood pressure improves. How's that going?" Angela asked in a thick sort of droll voice, showing that she needn't a test to know the answer.

Jack didn't reply, only pulling a towel from behind him and throwing it over his shoulder before approaching Angela and patting her shoulder with a paternal zeal, "I'm just bustin' your chops, Z."

"I know, Jack," Angela nodded with a smile, "Good having you back, Captain. Got tired of not being a hero, huh?"

He reached up to grab his shoulder, keeping it in place as he rolled his arm to stretchen out further, "I was just in the neighborhood. Figured I'd make a kid's day or something. Why? Your returning from your sabbatical wasn't about playing hero once again?"

"Thanks to you guys, I took it more as though we were playing the villains," Angela replied, sadly wearing a low smile, "I never once questioned your judgement, though."

Jack turned to her, his worn eyes staring at her, trying to bore a hole into her soul until she told the truth, the doctor finally shrugging, "That you ever heard, anyway."

He smirked, shaking his head, "You'd be surprised what all got back to me, Z. But what would I know; I'm just a two-bit dandy with pills and arrogance running through my veins."

Angela frowned, pulling her clipboard protectively against her chest as she turned her head away, "I mean, in context…"

Reaching over to pat her shoulder once again, Jack relieved her with a shake of his head, turning down the hallway as the two began walking, "Of all the junk Gabe or the press ever said, your critique always stuck with me the most. I don't hold it against you or anything; we were all sort of cowboys back then. There's a lot about the old Overwatch I'd take back in a second."

"Starting with that critique," Angela muttered behind a frown.

Jack chuckled silently, shaking his head as he hunted for a different topic, "Speaking of 'old' Overwatch, all these kids around here; how's the new vanguard looking?"

"Good," Angela replied wistfully, thinking for a moment of Fareeha, before quieter, still, "Good…"

Jack's brow rose curiously, turning toward the doctor with an investigative voice, "Hmm? From what I've read up on, they're a good group of soldiers. Not great, but good. That scrawny junker kid could use some weight; that Russian woman, Zarya, is she back home? I saw her image and knew I had to see it to believe it."

"They're all fine, it's just-"

"Amari's kid."

Angela frowned, sighing with exasperation as she reached up to rub her face, "I just get worried sometimes."

"She's a good soldier," Jack appraised with a serious voice, "A tad impulsive, but some field work will help her learn. I never recommend dating coworkers, but it's a new day and age, who am I to-"

"Wh-Wh-What?!" Angela shouted in surprise, spinning quickly in Jack's direction and pointing her thumb toward him like a weapon, "How'd you-?!"

"Because you never used to worry," Jack returned her stare with one of his own, wearing a grin as he spoke up, "You _always_ knew you'd keep us safe. I've never heard you be worried about anybody, either here, in you're medical practice. Must be 'cause you're into her."

"WHAT?!" Angela cried out in terror, covering her reddened face, about ready to take off running.

Jack shrugged, "There's been, what, five things you and I have seen eye to eye on? I just never assumed us both being into women would have been one of them."

"O-Oh," Angela recovered, though she still wore a crimson face as she steadied her breathing, "I-I thought you meant something else…"

Jack's eyes narrowed as he mulled over her words, gradually allowing his shoulders to fall as he sighed, "I _must_ be gettin' old; I don't even know what you're meaning. I thought _Wilhelm_ looked worse for wear, but here I am, hunting down a hot bath to ease my muscles, unable to grasp your dirty implications."

Angela's face flattened as she peered ahead, unamused by Jack's deceptive sort of behavior, the soldier chuckling as he turned to examine her reaction, "I'm not _that_ old, Z. You know, there was a time where you were the youngest one, the most innocent, among us."

Sighing once again, Angela rolled her eyes, "I forgot you could be such a dirty old-"

She caught herself, though not in time, just catching Jack's lips curl into a smirk as he walked along, "-man. Old man. It's not a bad phrase; I know what I am. For all my aches and pains, it doesn't hurt me nearly as much as seeing all of my old squad mates succumbing to time as well. Poor Amari's vibrance has nearly left her altogether."

Angela chose not to speak, knowing where Jack was headed with this line of conversation, unable to derail from its ultimate conclusion. She eyes her feet, watching her sneakers mechanically stride along, thinking back to that harrowing night in Ilos, wondering what Jack's thoughts on the matter must have been.

"He has her on his list, huh?" Jack spoke quietly, with a hint of sorrow in his throat.

Angela nodded slowly.

Jack sighed, reaching up to massage his cheek, "Yep. That'll get you to worry, too, I suppose. I guess we aren't all subjected to time; at least, not in the same way."

He paused for a moment, as though rolling the name off his tongue was to commit a sin, "Reaper."

"With the woman I love's name crossed out. yet she walks this earth still," Angela went on, achingly.

Jack replied, "You think he's after her for that?"

"He killed her once," Angela uttered softly, catching her welling up tears with a strategic wipe from her sleeve, "No reason he couldn't do it again."

Her face fell in time with her heart, watching the tiles beneath her as they rhythmically passed her feet, trying her best to turn her mind to something else. Jack didn't continue either, which Angela appreciated, whether or not it was intentional. They continued through the base, Jack pressing on toward his sauna-like haven, though Angela remained in tow, for no more reason than she had always felt safe beside her commander.

"Is Torbjorn recalled yet?" Jack asked, innocently.

"Not yet," Angela replied, "Soon, though."

"We might all need a get-together. You, Ana, Reinhardt, Torbjorn, 'n me. Just to chat," Jack concluded heavily, his tone lowered to a serious rumble.

Angela eyed him worriedly, "Is this about the pact?"

His eyes closed solemnly, his endeavor for a hot bath now rather hindered by a tug at his heart at the thought.

"Yes."


	11. Lunch & Disorder

The cafeteria was abustle as everybody packed in for lunch, this having been the most crowded the Watchpoint had been in many years. Winston couldn't help a nostalgic smile as he stood by the door that lead out to the helipad, looking back over his shoulder as everybody congregated around the massive board room table, taking seats and speaking loud enough to fill the atmosphere.

A sudden tap at the back of his head roused Winston from his reverie, turning back to find a colorful drone hovering there, having grown impatient and gently reminded its client that there was still a tab to be paid. Winston chuckled as he pawed for his wallet, shaking his head at how far food delivery had come in just his lifetime.

"Sorry, buddy," he spoke with a gentleness that, no doubt, had been fostered by his reliance on Athena, holding up a card and allowing the saucer-like drone to scan both sides.

A _beep_ worked its way out before the drone suddenly shot up into the air in a flash, returning home and leaving Winston to fix his glasses in examining the small object disappear into the clouds, shaking his head in bewilderment before stepping back into the cafeteria, the various containers of food having already been torn asunder and dived up like clothes thrown around a bedroom. He joined the others, taking his seat at the head of the table, fingers aflutter as he eyed the myriad of cuisine that sat before him.

"Good to know Winston finally figured out how to cook," Reinhardt roared vigorously with a laugh, winking at his friend, "Have somebody else do it!"

Winston nodded with a playful smile, too preoccupied with grabbing food to take any offense, "I figured the most I could do, seeing as how we've got two guests in our midst, would be to not frighten them with my glowing catalogue of peanut butter soufflé, peanut butter scones, or, my favorite, shrimp."

Jack turned toward Ana and Reinhardt beside him, eying the Crusader while barring his teeth in a crooked sort of smirk, "Figures his favorite dish is something he doesn't have to cook."

The two roared with laughter while Winston took their jolly in stride, leaning over the table with a wry smirk, "Of everything planted into my brain, at least I was imparted with the innate wisdom of- Oh, I'm sorry! Trigonometry isn't innate to everybody."

Proud of himself, Winston happily began his meal, gorging himself as Reinhardt sighed nervously, "Helpless."

"Winston's not very agile either," Genji shrugged, leaning over the table to eye their gorilla leader with a crooked smirk.

The ape sighed, "Look, this isn't 'Pin the Inferiority On Winston', alright?"

"We just love you that much," Angela clarified simply, "Everybody misses you is all."

Winston frowned, "They have a funny way of showing it sometimes. Oh! Genji, you must regale us with your time with Zenyatta! I checked out your psych scores and they were phenomenal!"

"Meditation does wonders," Genji explained as he lifted his glass to his lips, eyeing Jack with a grin before sipping, "You oughta try it, Morrison."

Jack rolled his eyes after leaning onto the table, "Plenty of excellent soldiers came before me without that stuff, and plenty, still, will come afterwards."

"Sounds like Genji before we found him," Angela smirked as she poked at her food, earning a nervous chuckle from the cyborg ninja as Winston burst out laughing.

"I assure you, Hakase, there are some ladies in Nagoya who weep at the thought of me having reformed my life," Genji smirked devilishly, turning toward Jack with a cockeyed glance, "Even with my body the way it is."

Jack shrugged, "You're more machine than man, Shimada. Probably got more circuits running electricity than your brain."

A loud _thump_ broke their tension as Roadhog leaned forward in entrance to speak, his voice still a rasping of a sort, "There was one omnic during the Liberation that joined our ranks. said he'd disagreed with the maked defying the maker. Even omnics don't operate in a give mind."

"I'm not saying he did," Jack offered up as he fell deep into his seat, "Omnics are bad news. Always have been. Man changes; that's what's kept us all alive for thousands of years. A machine just is. You get one of those omnics to meditate, what's it gonna find? There's nothing there."

"Your brain is in a ball of meat. Zenyatta's brain is on a hard drive. Same mechanics, same purposes," Genji responded, earning an inquisitive stare from Winston as he went along, "Same consciousness."

"Consciousness," Jack repeated, a grim frown crossing his face, "They act in an instant- how do they even have the time to think what's right or wrong? They were always better for chores, not judgements; I've seen a hell of a lot of omnics murder a hell of a lot of humans."

Genji paused for a moment, already knowing his trump card, "And how many humans have you murdered, Morrison?"

Jack's face had turned dark just as Genji had begun to speak, understanding quick enough what he'd worked himself into, simply shaking his head as he leaned forward once again to hide his face down toward his plate, "I still don't want that shit inside me."

As silence filled the room, Angela's hand slowly ran across her face in dismay, "Okay, this is a bad time, but I'd be remiss to remind you, Jack, that you should be taking your medicines _during_ your meals."

His head arose just enough to catch Genji's chest from the other side of the table as his hand dug into his pocket pathetically, slowly pulling out a container of pills. Genji turned his body away, unable to hide his amused laughter at the sight, his respect for the Captain having always been more or less lessened by his involvement with Blackwatch. Now he was merely watching his former master's rival pouring straight hypocrisy past his lips.

"Watch it; those may just-"

"You wanna go, you tin can?!" Jack shouted, slamming a fist into the table as he shot up to his feet, sending a number of half-filled glasses to the ground as Reinhardt threw a hand up to grab at his captain's arm to wrangle him down if need be.

"Stop it, you two!" Ana shouted, instilling order into the room.

Angela chided as well, "Yes, cut it out! Apparently, neither drugs nor machinery has taken the stupid childishness out of either of you! Crissakes…"

Jack challenged his youthful colleague with a fierce stare just a moment longer before gradually falling back into his seat, stretching out his arm to fiddle with his silverware as he slumped back in his seat. Angela cast a glance in both their directions before grumbling to herself while taking her seat, politely pulling her saucer closer to gently pull a forkful of kushari to her mouth, preparing to field Winston's words as he gave a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Ana. Angela," he offered them, nodding his head approvingly, before turning an eye to the quietest two members at the table, "Now, Mei, I've never been one to judge- seeing as how I'm a gorilla after all, but I can't help but notice that you usually speak three hundred or so words per minute at this table and, tonight, you've gone with a mere 'thank you'. I'm not keeping you too busy with that assignment, am I?"

The others turned toward the scientist, whose face was glued to her tablet, with Jamison sitting beside her and only able to give a shrug in response, "I dunno what she's up to."

"Hmm," Winston frowned, now concerned that her work was interfering with down time, "Could you give her a little tug or something?"

Jamison nodded, carefully grabbing ahold of her shoulder and teetering her body side to side until she just barely eyed him from the edge of her hoodie, reaching up to pull off the headphones that had been concealed beneath the parka.

"HUH?" she shouted out in questioning, sending Jamison reeling backward in shock.

"Now listen here, Mei-Ling," Winston cleared his throat, "I know I gave you that assignment, but-"

"WHAT?!" she shouted out loud, sending everybody at the table nearly collapsing in their seats away from her.

Angela rolled a finger around her ear, "For crying out loud, Mei! What, did you go right to eleven?!"

Picking himself up from nearly laying in his chair, Jack grumbled annoyingly, "I don't know, but she just sent me straight to hangover status."

Mei frowned at, to her, the fully unwarranted negativity directed toward her, crossing her arms as her ears began to lessen with her headphones removed, "I'm just trying to do my job here! I don't see any of you contributing to poor Lena's mission! She sounds so heartbroken in this recording!"

A chuckle escaped Genji's lips as he leaned toward the others, "Think she realized England's football team doesn't actually have lions playing on the field?"

Unable to withhold his own smirk, Jack covered his face to hide a quick chortle of _his_ doing, quickly forcing it into a cough as his eyes caught Mei's vicious stare in his direction. Winston's head rolled along his shoulders at his futile attempts at a moment's peace, simply rubbing his thumb and forefinger up and down the bridge of his nose as he slunk forward in his seat.

"Nevermind. As you were, Mei…"

The scientist frowned as she slowly pulled her cat-ear headphones back beneath her parka's hood, her eyes gradually meeting the waveforms that danced along her tablet screen in time with the recording she'd downloaded there.

"Another happy family," Angela scoffed sarcastically while defeatedly propping herself up on her elbow, running her face against her palm as it shook helplessly.

Ana made a noise as her silverware scraped along the bottom of her plate, "Hmm. You'd know plenty about that, wouldn't you, Ziegler. Well, at least the inverse."

The doctor cursed under her breath, finally resting her forehead on the table with her eyes closed. Her fingers clenched as she thought of her promise to Fareeha to get along with her mother, though, at times like these, she knew it would be going against her entire existence within Overwatch to submit to easily to the woman.

As if unknowingly, Roadhog peered across toward Ana with a curious expression, "What's the scoop?"

"Oh god," Angela moaned in anguish, "Just let it go."

"A good man you are, uh, Road-Hog?" Ana asked politely, earning a nod, "Imagine, if you will, a mother and her daughter. They spend every day together, living in a life of pure harmony, where they only aspire to be there for one another, and for the world, the vehicle of which coming in the form of this very institution upon which we sit. It's their whole pleasure to train and work for peace, with no more than each other's backs in one another's care!"

Angela growled as her head arose, "That's total bullshit and you know it! What do you call taking pot shots at an eight-year-old coming home from school?!"

"Training, as I said," Ana shrugged impotently, as though removing the burden of explanation before returning to her meal, "Doctors have their place, I'm sure; well, they did at one point. The world is serviced better by skilled soldiers these days; everybody's so headstrong and unmoving; a doctor's not going to shake foundations of regressive thought."

Reinhardt scooted his chair backwards to exit the fray with a nervous, "I- er- I'm just gonna get some more of that-"

His movement halted as Jack sent a foot to impede his momentum, shaking his head with a coarse command, "This is war, soldier."

Sadly resigned to his fate, Reinhardt groaned as he returned to his spot just as Angela jumped to her feet in a show of dramatic performance before throwing her arms up in questioning toward Roadhog, "What kind of mother does that?!"

"A good one!" Ana fired back, albeit calmly still, "My daughter is alive today, all thanks to me and my dedication to her becoming the best she could be. I never wanted her to flirt with settling- she has so much more potential than to have it wasted on fantasies of floozies and mere whims!"

Angela's teeth showed angrily as she watched Ana go along with her meal as though she were doing all she could to ignore her, the older woman's shoulders raising just slightly as she finished with one final stab, "I couldn't be happier you two are barely more than friends."

His body unable to move, Winston's eyes jumped toward Angela for her response, only finding her trembling with her bottom lip caught forcefully against her teeth, fighting internally for her next course of action. Genji did much the same, though his eyes watched Angela's as she shivered, catching something less of unknowing than uncertainty. The doctor knew what to say, she was merely fighting with herself whether or not to say it.

Finally, she paused, Angela's body coming to a stop as her lips freed up, her eyes closing in a dignified expression as she took a seat, a certain tension diffusion across the entire table as she picked up her fork for another scoop of her kushari, "Just friends, huh?"

Ana nodded, "She can do better than any relationship, I assure you."

"Well, I assure _you_ , granny," Angela muttered, her lips tightening angrily as she shot a glance toward Ana, "This ain't the only Egyptian I've eaten in this building."

Unlike Mei's outburst that was met with concealed laughter, Angela's finisher was only surrounded by quiet shock as the air cleared, the good doctor simply returning to her plate, silently eating as the whole table sat dumbfounded, including Ana, whose entire body had gone still. The only thing that broke the air was Roadhog's sudden chuckling, which turned into a raucous laughter as his body slumped sideways over the arms of his chair, convulsing as his hoarse voice battled the frenzied laughter that left him.

"BWAH HA HA HA HA!" he shouted, clutching his chest, "PFFT- ST-STOP! HA HA! I C- I CAN'T-! I CA- HA HA HA HA!"

Jamison, trying his very best to remain polite, finally burst into his own conniptioned fit as his torso fell onto the table in a convulsing lump as his cackling howls of laughter echoed in time with Roadhog's, earning only a confused glance from Mei as she watched, almost in worry at his sudden behavior.

Winston groaned at the sight, lowering his gaze just as Angela reached over to check on Roadhog's pulse, "Well, it wouldn't be Overwatch if it weren't normal, I suppose…"

And as Jack and Genji both shared shaking heads, finally, they had something to agree on, drowned out by the incessant laughter of two yobbos.


	12. Huddled Together

Even as Mei and Jamison had returned to her sub-degree office, she hadn't much to say, her attention still fully on the recording of Angela's phone call with Tracer, having played it a good few hundred times by now, still hinting for something that might have been used as a clue. While Fareeha was headed over to help, Tracer had yet to set off her tracker since her initial call to Winston after the bar attack, which would leave the soldier to have to scout out for Lena's location- a length of time that could become lethal were it to occur at the wrong instant.

As Mei hunched over her desk, her eyes never leaving her tablet, the whirring of a buzz saw filled the room behind her, sparks flying as Jamison silently tinkered on his own projects of theirs, taking the occasional glance over her shoulder toward Mei, a look of longing on his face before he returned to his own work, trying to remain content to be her assistant, if not anything more. On more than one occasion, he'd turned to watch her only to have his sight intercepted by the angry, digital face of Snowball, who seemed to have caught on at some point and resented his stares.

"Sorry mate," was all he'd mutter as he returned to his work, Snowball floating backward as the tiny saucer kept watch.

Eventually, just barely over the sound of his equipment, Jamison heard the clacking of Mei's headphones hitting the desk, stopping his torch and pushing the metalsmith's mask up over his head- a requirement, despite his skin having calloused beyond all reason by now. She ran her nails through her hair as she fell into her office chair, groaning in exasperation as if she'd already gone stir-crazy over the looping audio.

"Don't let it overtake ya, sheila," Jamison offered meekly.

She spun around in her chair, sulkily burying her face in her coat, "But I know there's something in there. There has to be. There always is. You should know as much as anybody; I go down to Australia so far behind anything to do with reclamation, I get kidnapped fifteen different times, and yet just stumble ass-backwards into the one flower that breaks the whole project wide open. There's _always_ a break, somewhere; I just cant find it."

Her shoulders sagging as her eyes closed, deepening in thought despite her taking a break, mumbling to herself the words from the recording that were now ingrained into her brain, mulling over Jesse McCree's words as though his deep voice were soothing in itself, "you know that look of shock... You wore it after I showed you that man… A depraved sort of shock…"

She sighed weakly, not noticing Jamison making his way toward the couch and taking hold of one of the blankets there, "C'mon, ya get cold when you're not working on somethin'. Why don'cha just slow down, have a Captain Cook about it, and maybe find a diff'rent angle ta go about it."

"Have a…what?" she inquired, turning her face toward him with still-closed eyes.

"When I was a lad," Jamison began, draping the blanket atop Mei and standing back with his hands against his hips, "I'd get so frustrated ya know, doin' what I could to improve my leg, for one, but my mum 'n I weren't exactly well ta do, so unable to finish my schoolin', I tried making stuff ta sell or help out. With all that pressure, I'd drive myself mad trying to build somethin', eventually runnin' my body ta just fall asleep on the spot. After a nap or two, I came back 'n found that my mind must'a refreshed to a state where I could complete, and even improve, most of my projects."

"I guess," Mei frowned, "I don't like sitting here though; one of the best parts about working in the field is that there's always something to do. Even when you're sleeping, you're not exactly off the clock."

Jamison grinned, "Oh, right. Bet'cha you cashed in big time after that mess up in your old Watchpoint! Goodness knows how many hours ya accrued if that were the case!"

Mei's face flushed as she just caught herself in time, slowly burying her face beneath her blanket, "Y-You remember that..?"

"'Course I do!" Jamison declared proudly, "Not every day you meet somebody with two ages!"

She blushed further, "J-Just don't mention the higher one, please…"

Jamison crooked a wry grin, "I never took ya as so vain, y'know."

"Not _vain_!" Mei retorted before lowering her voice, "Being born forty years ago is just a very frightening realization, even if nine of them domt really count…"

"What was it like?" Jamison wondered, falling back into the couch, "Being in cryostasis for so many years, I mean."

Her mouth and nose concealed beneath her blanket, Mei's eyes shifted away evasively, "Nothing special. I mean, so far as I could tell. I suppose it's like a dreamless sleep- I don't even recall it seeming like such a long time, those nine years. It was just, you know…empty time."

Mei's arms curled around her legs as she pulled her feet into the chair before her, "I've often thought if…if that's what death is like. That area devoid of even the knowledge of being asleep or awake. Then I remember my partners who died in cryo…if they even knew what was happening to them when it happened…"

She shook her head, "Ugh. I think I preferred having my mind wrapped up in that phone call…"

"But I like hearin' about ya," Jamison assured with a smile, "I mean, not if hurts ya or anything, I just-"

He paused as Mei's sudden smile interrupted him, "Oh no, it doesn't hurt to think about them. I mean, I miss them, yeah, but… Before we all went into cryo, in our little 'last ditch effort' thing, we all said our possible goodbyes and all that. Rajyeshwar, our leader, he made sure to let me know that my smile and boisterous behavior had helped keep them warm as the blizzard worsened. So, in a way, just by being myself, it's sort of a tribute to them all."

She smiled proudly still, "I don't know, having the air so low in here, maybe that also sort of reminds me of them all. Plus, I get to bundle up in my coat and feel that comforting sort of warmth. almost like I'm back there with them, laughing over tin canned dinners while we waited."

"Wow," Jamison replied with subdued surprise, "You make it sound kind of nice. The cold, that is, not- uh."

"I get it, don't worry," Mei smiled, "You're very sweet to listen to some crazy scientist's ramblings, though. Most people around here wouldn't give me the time of day."

Jamison vigorously shook his head, "Oh! No way, sheila! It's great listenin' to ya! I mean, with all that I've known, you come from almost the exact opposite! Ya got a family, colleagues, a career, a sweet-fleein' robot that follows you around! I ain't got none of that; Roadie, I mean, he follows me around, but he ain't mindless, ya know?"

"Actually, Snowball-" Mei began to correct, though was interrupted by Jamison as he went along.

"You guys've got everythin' you could possibly want here, and if not, ya just get it shipping in within the hour! and just you, yourself, I mean, you're smart- ya've got, what, three languages in there? You can actually plan stuff out instead'a throwing junk togetha'. I run around lookin' like Junkenstein's monster, but you're so pretty- I mean, sometimes, I can barely keep my eyes-!"

In a second, having just noticed Mei's blushing face in his flurry of speech, Jamison caught himself, throwing a hand up to cover his mouth as his eyes went wide, "S-Sorry! I-I didn't mean- uh- Y'know, I was just, uh- S-Sorry!"

He leaned forward, his legs constricting against his arms as they fell toward the floor there in defeat, leaving Mei to attempt her recovery behind her reddened face. She watched Jamison as he shivered, his body so much more grossly aware of the frigid air surrounding him now that he no longer was looking in Mei's direction. She felt how insanely warm her face had become, wondering how to hopefully warm Jamison up in the same was as her lips twisted in apprehension, eventually speaking up.

"Back in Australia," she began, slowly, "You said beautiful."

"O-Oh, yeah. That," Jamison replied weakly, still with eyes locked on the floor, "I mean, I meant it both times, I guess."

As though simply thinking about it whisked his mind off on some abstract adventure, Jamison's face lit up as his speech began to brighten, having no tact whatsoever, especially now that he was looking away from Mei, "'N I get to see it every day now, y'know? sometimes to the point where I'll miss it some times 'cause it becomes that familiar, but then I'll remember it and thank god that I have it'n such excess that I can get that feelin', right?"

His mind just now going over his own words, his face bolted upright to look at Mei with terrified eyes, "I-I-I-I d-don't mean ta say you-! Th-That is t-ta say- I don't mean to say, y'know, anythin' about you bein' anything less than gorgeous at all times! I-I mean, I never fail to notice your messy hair when you wander around in your pajamas without a care in the world, or when your eyes light up after I make a breakthrough on a project 'a yours! I don't eva' forget to smile when ya talk to yourself in your work as though you're your own assistant- I still notice plenty!"

Again reeling from the effects of having spoken before thinking, Jamison quickly bowed his head once again in shame, horrified of the idea that he'd just paved enough roadway to bury himself beneath. Surely he'd overstepped his bounds, though it certainly hadn't been intentional, he knew! His eyes weren't even fixed on the floor beneath him this time- he'd shut his eyes ashamedly, so tight that he could feel the strain in the tendons behind them, shaking his head in self-disapproval.

Suddenly he flinched, nearly jumping high enough to hit the roof as he felt the couch adjacent to him sink as Mei took a seat there, smiling rather embarrassingly as she peered away, speaking softly, "You're helpless sometimes, you know that, Jamie?"

He bit his lip as he instinctively began to rise to his feet, "I'm sorry; I told you, I ain't eva'-!"

Mei grasped his arm and pulled him back onto the couch, smiling as she watching him with upturned eyes, though he remained focused on anything else he could rest his eyes on, "You said such sweet things."

"W-Well, I mean…" he began, though as warmth began to radiate through him from Mei's hand there, just beneath his elbow, Jamison felt a gently calm rushing over him as he continued, softer, "I meant it all."

She began again, "Sorry if I was blind to it all. I'm not much socially outside of this room- there are some days where I talk to Snowball more than to any Hominidae. I know what you said back then…believe me, I recall those words more often than you might ever know. I just wasn't smart enough to know-"

"Oh, you're plenty smart!" Jamison objected.

"Not socially," Mei grinned.

His face darkened, "Oh. Well that ain't so bad. I can't tell my left foot from the right if we're talkin' about social stuff; how do ya think I became to hated by tha Junkers?"

"But," Mei began, "Isn't one of your feet a peg-leg?"

Jamison wore a crooked smirk as he answered, "I know. It's _that_ bad."

Mei returned with a grin of her own, her hand slowly rolling down his hand until it met with his, resting there gently as a blush washed over her, "So, uh… If we're both so socially inept, uh, would it be better if we just…said what we were feeling?"

"Maybe," Jamison replied, almost quizzically, "Unless it's somethin' I might not want to here, I suppose…"

She smiled weakly, "I think you'll like it."

Amidst everything earlier than this, Jamison hadn't the awareness to fully bring a blush upon his face. At those words, however, his cheeks lit up like a brake light, his teeth biting at his bottom lip as he finally noticed Mei's hand atop his through the layer of numbing, calloused skin. He eyed her only evasively, though summoned the courage to lift his fingers, sliding them between Mei's own digits before trying to entwine them all together, eyes shifting.

"I kinda like you," he managed, shallow, as his voice became caught in his throat.

She smiled, lowering her head to watch their fingers twisted together, his rough skin forcing a sharp tingling to run down the back of her neck, sending her shivering until Jamison spoke again, "I was so terrified of…ya'know…skipping straight to friendship when all I wanted ta do was look at how pretty you were."

"I mean, there's no reason why we can't be friends still," Mei replied, reaching up with her free hand to pull herself closer toward him with a gentle clutch of his shoulder, "I'm sure there's a place for some things, though."

With a sweet apprehension, Mei remained just before his lips for only a moment before closing the gap, her eyes closed to hide her embarrassment while Jamison's went wide in contrast, their faces matching very much in redness. His eyes struggled to remain focused, lost in such a feeling as he'd never known before- that same comforting warmth he'd learned from her hand, though this time, there was a softness to it that made his insides quake in nervousness. He watched her eyes tighten, closing so greatly, before watching the rest of what he could see of her face. Her skin was so perfect, he thought, and her nose was rather cute.

She pulled away slowly, a nervous smile replacing her pursed lips as she laughed weakly, "How- How's that for taking a break to relax? My heart won't stop racing."

"I know you don't like taking breaks; I merely said to take your mind off of what you were doing," Jamison's voice answered with a shaky tone, treading unknown waters, certainly not wanting to misstep and end this heaven of his.

Mei blushed, holding her elbow to her torso as she covered her lips with a fist as she thought quietly, "I, uh, hope it wasn't bad. I've never kissed anybody before, so if it was terrible- just-"

"I've never done any of this either," Jamison explained, his shoulders slumping, though he was unable to hide a tender smile at the thought of this chaste solidarity, "I mean, as far as I know, you're tha best kisser there is."

She grinned, "You're always stoking my ego."

"I've been told I'm a good 'yes man'," Jamison smiled, "It usually is followed up by a comment on how gullible I am."

Mei smirked as she allowed her body to lean toward his, though this time, Jamison assisted in closing the gap, his own free hand reaching over to pull her close, his opposite hand spinning around beneath hers so that their palms met, allowing their fingers to close between one another's. They met one another with peck after peck, their lips remaining fully pursed as they progressed, leaving Mei to pull away in analysis.

"Okay," she nodded knowingly, "Symptoms of kissing seem to resemble a myriad of other conditions. Though I can't help but feel that we're simply skimming the surface here."

His mind immediately wandering off beyond the next fifteen steps in the process, Jamison blushed at her words, though she clarified herself, quickly enough, "In my dramas when they kiss, they aren't so…you know. They're more…open."

Jamison grinned, pulling her closer once again, "Well I'd hate ta leave research untested."

She giggled, "My jokes are rubbing off on you."

With no time to reply, Jamison merely met her lips once again, that comforting warmth now turning into a near-searing flame at his lips as he was met with Mei's enticing breath, their lips exploratorily grasping one another's, instinctively sucking at each other's lips. Every time Mei felt the need to pull away and further explain her findings, she couldn't help but find a blank mind, simply returning for another kiss, Jamison's lips proving to be too gently and soft in contrast to how rough the rest of him was. They matched his gentle words, every kiss of his feeling like poetry to her.

"You, uh, taste good," Jamison muttered between kisses, earning a fierce blush across Mei's face as she shook nervously, though still unwilling to remove herself from such a new feeling.

Her heart racing to dangerous levels, she thought, Mei pulled away to lay down for a breather, though she hadn't figured Jamison would follow along, the two of them falling back onto the couch as their lips parted, Mei's blushing reaching maximum levels as she lay there with Jamison above her, his eyes wide with shock as though he had just awoken into quite the odd predicament.

While their lips had parted, their eyes continued peering into one another's, both of them watching the other's chest rapidly pulsating in their periphery, Mei speaking up quietly, "I think you know more than you let on, Jamie."

Jamison looked away nervously, a nervous smile appearing as he stroked his hair, "W-Well, I mean, I've stumbled across stuff in my day. I'm not entirely helpless."

"No, you're not," Mei confirmed with a smile, her eyes lowering to the top of her coat just beneath her chin, "You said you'd gotten used to looking at me, right?"

"No!" Jamison cried out in protest, though quickly reclaimed himself, "W-Well- I mean, I guess in so few words it may have sounded like that, but- But I didn't mean it! I just-!"

His words came to an abrupt halt, his mind suddenly growing blank as he watched Mei's hand reach up to her zipper, her thumb and finger to daintily grabbing ahold of the tiny bit of metal before she slowly pulling it away with a quiet undoing of the metal tracks. Jamison's eyes widened in shock as her coat separated effortlessly the further her zipper went, almost as though her very clothing were presenting her body with the pulling of stage curtain.

Jamison's eyes could pull away, even after her completely freed coat fell to her sides, fully exposing her body beneath just a thin tank-top. She quickly covered her face with both hands, her nerves overtaking her as Jamison watched worriedly from above.

"S-Sorry!" she apologized hurriedly, "I know I'm not the tiniest thing in the world- You deserve to know what you're getting into, I think, and I know what you said, but you might not have had any idea just how much I-!"

Jamison quieted her with a gentle hand at her wrist, slowly pulling her shield away, frowning at the tears that had welled up in her eye. She carried herself as such a care-free person; he hadn't any idea she's had such insecurities. Still, he couldn't help but lean down toward her, giving her a gentle kiss at her cheek to catch a stray tear that had run there.

"I think you're gorgeous, Mei," he spoke quietly with a smile.

All she could do was squeak in reply.

He grinned, turning his head down to look at her wonderous body, "I've gone my whole life livin' on scraps 'n never having quite enough ta satisfy me. I'd be much too happy ta have some extra, now."

Another squeak, though this time, it was followed with Mei's voice, "You're gonna make me cry, stop."

Jamison smirked, "Trust me, I'm quite overwhelmed myself."

"M-Maybe just a change of scenery will do…" she spoke up as she wormed her way out from underneath Jamison, leaving him to push himself up so that he was on his knees stop the couch.

He watched her, nearly worriedly, "Where ya goin'?"

Having removed her coat, she smiled back at him as she reached out to direct him, leading him backward to that he was laying there on the couch before Mei brought her knees to either side of him, crawling up to where their faces were matched as she smirked, "I'm just coming on top of you; it's nothing- PFFT!"

She immediately began to giggle, quickly reaching up to politely cover her face as she did so, unable to see Jamison's confused look up toward her as she did so. Her throes of laughter subsiding, she finally eyed him with a curious glance of her own, Jamison's lips pulling to one side nervously as he spoke up, obviously out of the loop.

"Y'know, it's another one of my puns," she explained sincerely, "Since we're…you know."

Still met with a blank stare, Mei frowned, "Wow, we're both so much in the realm of the unknown here, huh?"

"Sorry…" Jamison offered quietly, "I know ladies like guys who know-"

"Hush," Mei smiled, placing her index finger against his lips, "That's nonsense. I was always kind of busy, so I never really had the urge to, y'know, myself… Except a few times, like, I'd be watching one of my Korean soap operas, and this one guy, he'd show up every now and then and just exude this air of- hmm. Like, I'm getting a bit riled just thinking about it! They'd have him walk in and, his love interest, Tokko, he'd just take a handful of her shirt and just tear it off! Like he was-!"

"Do you think I'm… Ya know…" Jamison asked, weakly.

Mei watched him at first with a look of surprise, though her face quickly softened into one of knowing, her body lowering to match his as she went in for another kiss, "I think you're all that and more, Jamie."

"Well shucks…" he grinned.


	13. Heroes Never Die

Angela's wrist ran across her sleepy face as she trudged down the hallway, trying to wipe the sleep from her eyes. Her hair was a disheveled mess after an incomplete sleep, and with every blink of her eyes, the light from her phone still remained burned into her vision as she grumbled obscenities to herself, only somewhat thankful that Reinhardt wasn't around to hear them. Her slippers flopped behind her, her lightly plaid pajamas waving behind her as she walked somewhat with a pep in her step, having been told she was needed "somewhat, not entirely, urgently".

Reinhardt hadn't said much in his text, though Angela could assume it had something to do with Ana, seeing as how he'd said to come to the control room- however, access was always denied unless Winston or Lena with there as well, so Angela wasn't entirely sure what could have been happening with the tight ship Winston often ran here. Still, she made her way along, eyes barely open, finally coming to the large door to the control room which slid open at her arrival.

Her eyes narrowed even further as she stared at the sight of Winston in his chair, his head slumped back over its head rest as he quietly snoozed there, arms falling to his sides in a rather unsettling sight, given the gunfire Angela suddenly heard from the shooting range below. She instinctively turned to the large window to her right, noticing Reinhardt there, leaning against the glass with his arm as he peered down toward the gun range. Angela sighed, running a thumb at the point of her eye beside her nose before approaching the old man with as much curtesy as she could muster, given the hour of night.

"Yo," she managed, lazily.

Reinhardt didn't move as Angela approached the window, staring down to see Ana there, in full gear, aiming with her wrong eye once again, her neck crooked in an unnatural position in order for her left eye to peer awkwardly down the scope.

"She's gotten one or two good hits," Reinhardt explained heartlessly, "I keep telling her to take a break, but she won't listen. I figured the doctor could convince her."

"The doctor is me, Wilhelm," Angela replied, pithily, sighing heavily as she watched Ana take another shot, again sending the bullet wide, "Her week is almost up. I asked her to try for one week before deciding to go home."

Reinhardt turned his head to just see Angela from a sidelong glance, "She wanted to go home?"

Unable to answer, Angela bit her tongue.

He sighed, shaking his head, "She never told me. I mean, she did, but I…"

"She wants to be where you are," Angela explained quietly, "You want to be here, so."

"I just didn't want her to feel as helpless as she thinks she is, but this is just- She's been at this for hours now; I don't want her to hurt herself. God knows I don't want her losing her mind sticking to this for longer than she needs. You said a week? I'm concerned this won't end there, not if she has something so massive to prove," Reinhardt sighed with a shake of his head.

Angela eyed him critically, "So why did you call _me_ here?"

"Because as much as I'd like to be the one to prop her up and keep her standing when she's weak and tired, I know that she's the farthest person from the type to allow such a thing," he shrugged, easily, "I figured some tough love might be in order, even more so from the physician whose clearance is required for her to ever see combat again."

Her eyes rolling, Angela groaned, her head falling forward in defeat, "You know, if it were anybody else, I wouldn't even consider that."

"I saved your ass enough times to know how many favors I've accumulated, my dear," Reinhardt replied with an amused tone, "All I ask is this one thing. Just help her. If she physically can't perform, if you're the one telling me so, that's fine. If she can't, well… My place is beside her, now. If she's sent home, my place isn't here."

Angela's eyes turned to meet his, surveying the dreary look on his face, surrounded by white hair that scraggily spun every which way along him at the moment, his lips curling into a smirk, "And I do trust you enough to know you won't blow smoke just to keep me here. I know what I've seen for the last few hours."

The doctor bit her lips, quietly accusing with an unsure voice, "Are you wanting to lea-"

"Doctor," Reinhardt nodded toward her, "Ms. Amari needs an inspection, I believe."

Suddenly groaning, Angela turned away to leave the control room, quietly making her way down into the targeting range, not needing to follow any sort of protocol since Winston was snoring up a storm. His dreamy growls were all that accompanied Wilhelm now that he was alone up there, slowly shoving his large hands into his pockets as he watched Angela emerge along the end of the shooting stalls, Ana still hunched over her counter with her head tucked far against her opposing shoulder, her wrong eye trying to sneak its peak down the scope.

 _BANG_

She yanked the bolt back.

 _BANG_

Again.

 _BANG_

Once more.

 _BANG_

She dropped her rifle on the counter as she stared off down the range, finding her target swaying there, only two holes managing to strike its perfect shape. A lackluster result, given the hundreds of bullets she had expelled. Even then, she barely frayed the edges. She grasped the edge of the counter, tightening her grip as she grit her teeth, trying to squeeze her anger out of herself silently, aware that her lover stood just above her, knowing her every move. She kept her head low, making sure never to turn herself to the side for fear of him catching her with tears staining her skin.

Standing there a moment in tension-fueled reflection, she slowly began to reload her firearm, her breaths deepening as she focused her mind, strain building up behind her eyes as she stared down the range, the target hanging there as if mocking her by this point. After a genteel sigh, she crouched down again, unaware of Doctor Ziegler's presence behind her.

"Amari," she muttered, trying her best to sound polite.

Ana groaned loudly, dropping her rifle to the counter as she stood up, whipping her head over her shoulder to stare at her, "Bet you're ready to gloat, huh? Almost done for the week, and that hag, Amari, still hasn't made a dent, eh?"

Angela mere raised her shoulders for a moment with crossed arms, staring down the range, "You made two."

"Two more than you were hoping for, I'm sure," Ana scolded, matching the doctor with her own set of crossed arms, "So what, come down here to formally sign my resignation? Get me on the red eye so I'm out of your hair as soon as possible?"

Angela's lips pulled to the side with difficult indecision, ultimately speaking up, "You know, I was actually rooting for you, believe it or not. Not only is that man up there a hell of a soldier, you used to be one too. I'm not _against_ you, particularly since I'm with your daughter, one, so you can quit the act; I'm not trying to get you out of here. If you're able to perform, we do need you."

"If I'm able to perform," Ana repeated, shaking her head, "Y'know, I've been bent over this wooden shelf for hours now, thinking. The only reason you gave me this week was because you wanted me partaking in my own death march of futility- you wanted me gone as soon as I arrived, but lo and behold, you respect Wilhelm enough to put up with me."

Angela shrugged, "I didn't put that rifle in your hand."

"Yeah, but you knew I'd never do what that man thinks I can do. It's one thing to tear my spirit to shreds, it's a whole fucking other thing to break that man's heart. I've stood here fifteen hours, unable to show my face, because I know it would kill him. He'd tug me on home and go with me. This whole charade of your- I'm fighting like grim fucking death, not only for me, but for two of us to stay here."

Ana reached over toward the counter to grab her bandana, "Well I'm done fighting when there isn't even a war. He wants us to both be home, and I've got to tell you, I feel far more welcome there than I have, here, this entire week."

"Amari," Angela spoke up, though the sniper wasn't having any of it.

"You get your wish, Ziegler," she muttered, starting off, "I'll leave my resignation on-"

The doctor reached out to grab her arm, holding her back as she struggled to free herself mid-stride, "I have to sign of on you leaving too, you know."

Ana frowned, "Gonna make me suffer, huh? What do I have to do? Shine your shoes? Say that you were right all those years? that my consciousness doesn't bite at me every now and then over all the lives I've taken? The fuck gives you the right?"

Angela replied, drolly, "Literally? Gabrielle Adawe. Now get back in that stall; you have four more shots to take to empty your weapon. Standard operating procedure."

The sniper scowled as she turned her head back toward the counter, gritting her teeth as she spoke, coldly, "You know I can't."

"Well, you've got four shots to prove me wrong," Angela replied with an even tone.

Ana watched her with a tightened brow, slowly returning to her stall as she dropped her bandana next to her, cursing under her breath as she readied herself for her final shots as an Overwatch operative, for all intents and purposes, she figured. Angela turned her gaze up toward Reinhardt, watching the man's fist held up to his lips in suspense. She didn't know what he wanted, outside of Ana coming to some sort of closure regarding whether to stay or go. For all she could tell, he seemed to want to stay, though his loyalty to the woman he'd called a friend for decades, whose bed he now kept warm, she knew was stronger than any tie he had to this organization. It was the same way Angela felt about Fareeha oftentimes- she'd give up all of this for the woman she loved.

 _BANG_

Angela's head jerked around in surprise, just in time to see Ana's head fall forward in defeat. She eyed the sheet of paper that served as a target, still with two holed near its edges, leaving Ana three shots away.

"Again," Angela spoke.

She nearly felt her lip give way to blood as Ana lifted her head, staring down at the target. She wanted to be here, so truly; it was beyond duty to her role as a soldier. She had a duty to her daughter, to right the wrongs they'd made before their disbanding. A duty to her lover, a duty to herself, to prove that whatever ailment she had incurred, it wasn't enough to fell her. Not in this way; now for this doctor's amusement, she thought.

 _BANG_

Angela's eyes narrowed, "Agai-"

"Fuck you!" Ana shouted, raising her rifle into the air and swinging its butt-end into the counter, smashing it into pieces as she dropped the rifle, spinning her body around and pointing a defiant finger toward Angela, "I don't have to take this _shit_ from you! I'm not your fucking puppet!"

Angela's arms spread apart innocently, "Ana, I-"

"Don't even tow that party line shit with me, princess; you don't have a fucking clue what's going on with me!" Ana shouted maddeningly, "Sitting in your pristine fucking chair- You know, you never once understood what any of the rest of us were about; I was right to tell you, to your face, in front of everybody, how stupid your ideals were! Any goddamned second in the field- had you made any fucking effort whatsoever, you'd maybe, _maybe_ , understand the shit I'm going through! What we're _all_ going through, except _you_."

She trembled like a flag unfurled, "You don't get to make these decisions; you have no idea. No idea what Wilhelm, or Jack, or me; all you know is your pretty face and your nice fucking shoes. Well fuck that! I don't need your judgement!"

Ana began to storm off past Angela, though the doctor reached out once again to grab her, the sniper's arm flailing away more violently this time, breaking away, as Angela spoke up, "You've got two more-"

"Fuck you, bitch!" Ana shouted, almost hysterically, tears pouring from her eyes as though this entire moment were a torrent of emotion threatening to drag her away from any semblance of reality, "You have NO idea what I've given up for this chance to stay in this organization!"

Angela tongue fell full as she tried to brace herself without showing any movement, "Fareeha's father, for one?"

Ana's eye bolted wide, sheer instinct kicking in as she took a step forward, throwing her arm into a wild arc as she punched Angela square in the face, sending the doctor into a daze as she collapsed backward onto the floor. Ana quickly followed behind, more due to her legs growing numb than with intent, as she fell to her knees beside her, reaching down to grab ahold of Angela's shoulders as if she were trying to shake some sense into her, though such a motion never came.

Angela felt the blood trickling from her nose alongside her burning tears from the pain as she looked up at the old woman's face above her, Ana's tears rolling down her face like an avalanche. Less so from her appearance, she seemed so much younger, Angela recognizing the soldiers from years ago after agonizing missions, nearly breaking down on the way back to base. She had only ever seen Ana like this once before; the day after _he_ had perished. After that, she never allowed even a hint of emotion to cross her, until now.

"You don't know," Ana cried in anguish, shaking her head, "You don't know."

Angela shut her eyes as she swallowed the sudden lump in her throat, her hand lifting up toward her face to allow her finger to swathe along her upper lip, taking a dab of her blood and reached up toward Ana's face. The soldier recoiled at first, though in that moment, understood what the doctor was doing, having forgotten so long ago what hidden asset this particular doctor had. Angela carefully ran her finger along a cut that had appeared after Ana had destroyed the counter, sending shrapnel across her face, leaving a line of blood there and leaving a red line that Angela could make out beneath her tears.

"I gave up everything but my body, so that I could offer you, Wilhelm, everybody, I could give you guys everything, including my body, if I ever thought any of you had needed it," Angela spoke, weakly, "If you all weren't so damn good."

Ana felt her chin begin to tingle as Angela's blood stained her skin, her cut slowly beginning to heal as the doctor spoke up again, "Sometimes, I wonder how much of a waste my life is, having not died. My blood being filled with this stuff, I forfeited the ability to ever bear a child; but here I am, with nothing to show for it. I spend hours at night, thinking of how I gave up so much, just so I could die, and- I'm still here."

"This blood, and these tears," Angela quietly went on, weakly, "They took any child away from me, but they gave me the love of my life back. I brought your daughter back from death that night in Ilios, and for fuck sake, Ana, I'm trying to bring you back to life too. Just hit that goddamned target, please; not to prove it to me, or anybody, but to yourself."

Ana's breathing had slowed since Angela had begun, and she now sat above her own knees, having relinquished her grip on Angela's shoulders a few moment ago. She turned to look at her stall, watching its destroyed frame with regret in her eyes. For all her emotions she tried to keep from others, anger was one she hadn't ever been truly good at concealing. She reached a sleeve up to wipe away her face before standing up, not bothering to help Angela to her feet, knowing the doctor was far more concerned with this task at hand.

She humbly bent down to grab ahold of her rifle, taking a step back to move to a different stall when she paused, realizing she had fifteen hours of practice at this specific angle, knowing it best not to start anew. Still, with the counter dismantled, it left her with no solid base to steady her body upon, leaving her confused for a moment as to what she should do.

Angela picked herself up, reaching up to massage her face before eyeing Reinhardt once again, finding his face buried in his large paw. She wasn't sure if he wasn't able to watch, or if he was simply hiding tears, but she inevitably returned her attention toward Ana as she grumbled to herself, widening her stance as she stood within the stall, burying the rifle into her shoulder as she bent low, foregoing any sort of help when it came to balancing or lining up her shot. Strangely enough, it almost felt more natural this way, just like she used to do. Just her, her weapon, and the target.

She leaned into her rifle, cricking her neck just right so her eye could peer blurrily down the scope from its position just before the edge of its socket, her finger trembling as-

 _BANG_

Ana pulled herself away as she stood up straight, lowering her arm to her side as she stared off down the range to see where her bullet had ended up, leaving Angela to approach her from behind, pulling a sheet of paper out from her back pocket along with a pen, frowning as she turned her glance up toward Ana.

"You got one more, so you want to go again?" she asked, indifferently, "I mean, you're signing this reinstatement sheet regardless, I presume."

Ana's eye stared at the third hold in the target, her face remaining still, emotionless, as she turned toward the sheet of paper in Angela's hand, "You sure, doctor?"

"That's two deadlines you've beaten. Unless I wish to get hit again, I doubt I'll have any further objection," Angela shrugged with something of a smile, "I mean, standard operating procedures dictate that you're require to unload your entire-"

 _BANG_

Ana simply raised her rifle toward the range, firing off the final bolt without much effort before sliding the weapon down in her hand until she held its firing end, resting it against the wooden frame of the stall, "How's about we sign it over some tea? I'm sure my daughter has introduced you to some of our blends?"

"Koshary, I think," Angela confirmed, "She said something about Saiidi putting more hair on my chest than she cared to ever see."

Ana smirked, "Well, if my daughter has treated you to one, allow me to treat you to the other."

"It's a deal," Angela assured, sincerely.


	14. A Pathway to Vengeance

Jesse's eyes peeked out from behind his eyelids, catching the slant of glowing sunlight from between the wooden boards that barred his bedroom window, turning his head to escape the burning rays. He grumbled to himself at the feeling of being awoken, which hadn't been a satisfying feeling for him in many, many years now. He never truly felt rested, no matter how many hours were spent asleep, always waking up with heavy eyes, exhausted muscles, never managing a deep enough sleep to gain any sort of use from such a state. Still, with the sun out, and with Joshua sure to make good on his ultimatum from yesterday to return, Jesse grunted with each aching muscle as he pushed himself up, leaning low over his knees as he sat on the edge of the bed.

His eyes stared down at the brown floor beneath him, his scraggly hair falling in an incomplete circle around his face as his toes curled inward, Jesse almost trying to figure out how much of him was still working after all this time, as though he couldn't be sure anymore. He pulled his hand toward his face, cracking his knuckles, appraising their use as well before dropping it back down, shaking his head with pained anguish at the prospect of yet another day. another beating at the hands of Joshua.

Jesse's eyes suddenly farted toward the door as he pulled himself up, staring curiously out as far as he could through the threshold, the door having been torn from its hinges long ago, his face turning confused. He recalled that Lena Oxton was somewhere around, and he knew well enough, he had slept far longer than Lena ever allowed anybody, her night of raucous rampaging through bunks to alert every sleeping soul of her ability to form her chronal beams into ethereal blue puppies chasing after her was still the stuff of legend around Overwatch offices.

He cautiously took to his feet, making his way through the small home, only to find that Lena was nowhere to be found, nary a trace of her ever having been there to begin with. On the one hand, he was relieved to have her gone, if only because it meant she was no longer in the way, though on the other, he was suspicious that she had actually left at all. As he scanned the somewhat-organized living room, she had exerted so much effort to improve his living situation, and given her usual stubbornness, he couldn't be sure that she had left entirely. Perhaps she'd merely run off to her shop for something, or headed into town; as far as Jesse was concerned, none of it could turn out well, though that was simply a side-effect if being acquainted to Lena Oxton.

He sauntered into his kitchen and slowly began to brew some coffee, reaching over for yesterday's mug of the stuff as his coffee maker churned along, bringing the mug to his face and taking a sip of the bitterly cold liquid, not fazed in the least by now. His eyes eventually fell onto an envelope that was sitting across him atop the opposing countertop, a curious curling of his face showing itself as he chugged the last of the mug's contents to ready it for a fresher brew, slowly walking toward the slip of white paper with aching muscles along his legs making the trip more painful than he'd have liked, hoping the contents of the envelope would offer something of relief- perhaps a goodbye note from Lena, or directions on how to shut the power off on that girl for however long Jesse would have preferred.

He slid the folded slip from within the envelope, his brow rising in quiet surprise as he read the single sentence there:

 ** _Like a good soldier, I've always got my eyes on you._**

 ** _-Tracer_**

 ** _P.S. He's been fed._**

Jesse's lips twisted in dissatisfaction as his mind wandered to the event with which Lena had referred to. It took him back to his days in Overwatch, rather painful memories to begin with, but it also invoking a particular moment between Jesse and Lena that had once been a fond one for him. For all her rhetoric about how she'd once looked up to him, the feeling was quite mutual, even if Jesse hadn't ever dared to admit that fact. Having lost a younger brother, he though, before joining, he had developed a sort of paternalism when it came to the naïve, reckless Lena who, ultimately, would become full of stories of her own about Jesse teaching her the ropes when it came to so much. Lena had been brought on by Angela in the heat of the King's Row incident, and by the time it was over, it soon enough became forgotten that she'd not had the routine training in place for new recruits, a responsibility Jesse couldn't help but take on, albeit not explicitly.

"Always got your eye on me," Jesse muttered to himself, shaking his head, "It'd be the first time, rookie."

He had just dropped the sheets of paper back onto the counter when an immediately sudden cast of shadow fell upon him, Jesse quickly peering up to notice the window curtain having come unfurled from its fabric tie that kept it drawn above the window. He approached the window to return the curtain to the rod above, his eyes squinting through the morning sunlight before he turned back away, reaching out for the fresh pot of coffee.

"What a day, Leslie," he murmured to himself as he poured into his mug, "What a day."

He walked back into the living room, taking a seat in the corner of the ramshackle couch so he could bring a leg up the length of the furniture, propping his arm up atop its edge as his head fell backward, Jesse feeling his tendrilled hair pulling along his scalp as it fell to the ground, hanging there, clinging on to him. His mind began to wander, which he never enjoyed, as it would inevitably cross over into some other realm that he hated to reimagine. He did his best as he closed his eyes, focusing intently on the darkness found there, his mind swirling into a misty haze of nothingness, just the way he liked it. It had become like home to him, he thought suddenly, a cozy little space where he was free from-

 _crash_

His eyes opened at the sound from the kitchen, like the sound of a glass hitting the floor and shattering there, his head turning up to examine the walkway into the next room curiously, picking himself up and pattering lazily back into the kitchen, sure enough finding a shattered glass on the floor by the window. He sighed at the sight, figuring it had just teetered off from the counter, walking over to pick up the pile of crystal glass before his eyes jumped to the window above the sink, catching the sight of Joshua and a henchman coursing across the dunes in a sports car, sending Jesse's mind afire as he spun back toward the interior of the house, trying to seek out any evidence of Lena's visit, quickly stuffing her letter into the garbage disposal and finding nothing else.

He rushed to double check the secret door into Michael's room, stopping as he noticed his recall cube sitting on the counter, unsure of how to treat it. Lena had fixed up his living room, but if it had been Jesse doing the cleaning, would have have placed the cube anywhere prominent? or just tossed it in a corner somewhere? He groaned, finally deciding to simply throw the cube into a cabinet before taking a step toward the back hallway when a sudden _CRASH_ broke the air, Jesse's front door flying through the living room far enough for him to watch it hit the ground, a dark shadow sauntering into his home as Jesse sighed, silently hoping Lena had fixed up the back room after feeding the man.

"Big brother?" Joshua asked with a cacklingly questioning voice, leaning forward to catch Jesse standing in the kitchen, "I told ya we'd be back, right?"

He nodded, "Yes. Don't know what you're hoping to find though."

Joshua shrugged, "Well you seem to have a renewed interest in those fools over in Europe, and I can't have you running off, can I?"

He waved Jesse to come into he living room, which he obliged as Joshua continued, "How're you doin'?! You look the same as always, quite frankly; you need to get ore sleep. I worry about you, ya know. When you were in Overwatch I had no idea of my dear brother was being shot at or tortured or whatever over there! You're much safer under my guidance, I'd say."

Jesse hid a wince behind his straight face, unsure if his brother was simply making an attempt at manipulation or if he was legitimately as twisted as his words suggested. He eyed the two cronies as they walked into the house, prepared to embark on another search.

"You know the process by now, I hope," Joshua shrugged, pulling out a pair of leather gloves, catching Jesse's attention as he pulled them onto his hands, "Don't worry, we won't knock you out cold like we did yesterday- that was a flook. Now, where were we; the chick runnin' around in your old clothes, right? She didn't come 'round here, huh?"

"No," Jesse replied, cooly.

Joshua shrugged for emphasis, "Then why would she be here?"

"Beats me. Considering your gangland fantasies, they might be looking to take you out," Jesse offered, knowing what would come of his mouthing off.

As expected, Joshua smirked, in a split second winding up an arm and punching Jesse in the face, sending the cowboy hobbling backward as he reached up to grab his cheek. Joshua shook his head with dismay, fixing his glove with an austere air.

"Please don't get smart with me, Jesse," he groaned, "I only want answers."

"And what makes you think I've got 'em?"

Joshua frowned, "Sally always said you were the one to come to, didn't she? Father died, that poor woman had little else to turn to, putting you in charge of me; she always said to look to my big brother for guidance. So? Guide me."

Standing back up straight, Jesse eyed his brother with a fervent glare, "She also said to not follow in our father's footsteps."

"What was I supposed to do? _You_ brought me into this life, you shit, then you abandoned me. I'm here because you left me with nothing but the dirt in my shoes."

Jesse stared at him, "I may have disobeyed our mother, but I atoned."

"The fuck you did," Joshua challenged, throwing a finger in Jesse's face, "I may have taken your family from you, but that's only a fraction of what you've left to atone. You took _my_ life away from me; you're nowhere near done until I've taken every single breath of life from you. Not until you've lived the misery I've lived."

Jesse watched him carefully, about to retaliate when a sickly sound crossed his ear. He couldn't quite drove himself to take his eyes off his brother as he heard pairs of footsteps behind him, Jesse's face dropping as his brother's twisted into a devilish sort of grin. One of the cronies had Michael by the hair, dragging him through the house while the wasted man desperately tried to claw along the floor on all fours to keep up, lest his hair tear from his scalp.

"Oh Jessie," Joshua sighed with a light voice accompanying his smile, "I wish you'd just told me what you were up to. You know how deceptive this makes you look? Where was he?"

The henchman stopped at Joshua's side, throwing Michael at his master's feet, leaving the man crumpled up on the floor in a painful writhe as he clutched his head, "Ther' was a slat in'th wall back in th' ha'way. Pulled it down 'n boom! Strapp'd to a chai' 'n all, like a crimin'l."

"Hmm. Criminal?" Joshua asked, turning toward his brother, "Is this Overwatch stuff?"

Jesse eyed him viciously, a coiling anger welling up within him at the thought of losing this man; losing the last vestige of any sort of loyalty or acquaintance to the life he'd once known. Still, he refused to retort, simply watching his brother as he tended his body for whatever might come from this sudden development.

"I promised our mother that I wouldn't do anything to hurt you," Jesse spoke, "But if you don't leave that man be, I may have to break it."

Joshua's brow clenched tight as he approached his brother, reaching up and pushing Jesse's shoulders as he spoke up nearly in a shout, "What are you up to?! That bitch in town; what the fuck are you all up to?!"

His brother only replied with a stiffened glance, infuriating Joshua all the more. He quickly laid a massive blow to Jesse's face, sending the elder brother keeling over in pain, allowing Joshua to grab two handfuls of his hair, pulling his brother's head close to send a shattering smash of his knee into the cowboy's face, Jesse weakly falling to the ground. Joshua followed, dropping to his knees and grasping Jesse's shoulders, lifting him up and pushing his head into the floor below.

"WHAT ARE YOU UP TO?!" he demanded, "You left me here with NOTHING and I scraped and bit and fuckin' killed my way to the top; and I'll fuckin' murder you right here in your home before I let you take even more from me!"

Jesse's eyes began to glaze over from the impact, though he remained with a lighted stare back up at his brother, shaking his head as he replied, "I have nothing to do with Over-"

"Bullshit!" Joshua cried, turning over his shoulder, "Bring that fuck over here; I want him dead too!"

His crony obliged, grabbing another handful of Michael's hair, the man wailing in pain as he was thrown toward the two brothers. Joshua had straightened himself on his knees, reaching around to a revolver at his back and bringing it to Jessie's face, pushing the barrel into his cheek, forcing Jesse's head to the side as he watched Michael curled up in defense, the henchman sending nasty kicks into him to get him to stay still.

"S-Stop!" Michael cried out.

Joshua leaned down closer to Jesse, his teeth seething with savage intent, "One last time, brother. What is Overwatch up to here? Are they trying to clear up the Deadlock Gang again? Trying to force me out?"

Michael's eyes grew wide at Joshua's words, his face whipping toward the two brothers as Jesse's eyes tensed from turning so high up toward his brother, his speech slurred from the gun against his face, "I'm…not…"

"Wrong answer," Joshua concluded, reaching into his pocket for some bullets, keeping the barrel against Jesse's face as he pushed the chamber out the gun's side, shoving it full of bullets as he grinned evilly, "Y'know, your wife's last words were begging me not to do what I'm about to do. Quite frankly, I should have done it sooner. Fuck, I wish you'd been here instead of off with those bastards in Overwatch."

He shook his head, a cold sweat breaking across his face from the desert heat, his eyes deepening as his devilish smirk widened, "I had her on the ground too. Tellin' her the myriad of ways I was gonna tear 'n shred your body apart; she started cryin', begging me, louder and louder, not to hurt you."

"Ooohoho," Joshua chuckled in a sick delight, sticking his knee into Jesse's back as his older brother began to squirm, fighting back as his rage boiled over, "There's that fight 'n ya that made you a legend around these parts. C'mon Jesse; give me some more! Free yourself! Ha ha! Just like I had to!"

Jesse's struggling increased, though his muscles fought against him as they aches alongside the painful ball of pressure that dug square into his back. His breathing increased, the pressure at his cheek turning them into growls as he yanked at his arms, trying to reach back to grab any part of his brother he could get it.

"Leslie fought and fought, too," Joshua goaded with a sort of cackle, "She only stopped once enough of her clothes had worked their way beyond decency. She offered her own self, she _begged_ me to take her and screw her if only to save the lowlife of a man she called a husband, crying and wailing the entire time it happened, torn up in more ways than one, I have no doub-!"

Jesse's heart stopped as a glimmer of gold suddenly flew out just in front of his face through two floorboards, flying into the air above him. His eyes grew into saucers as he tracked the object shimmering in the sun, Joshua recoiling in surprise, losing concentration on his brother as Jesse tore his arm free, reaching through the air to retrieve the small token, Joshua's face twisting in furious anger as he tried to grab the object himself. However, in one fluid motion, Jesse grabbed the badge, still throwing his hand across his back and punching Joshua in the face, bringing himself up as his younger brother fell away, holding his cheek as he stared at the badge in Jesse's hand.

Joshua's eyes jumped back and forth from Jesse, Michael, and his henchmen, hot breath escaping his nose rapidly as he tried to ascertain the situation, though Jesse merely began to stand up, leaving his brother's hand trembling with his revolver clutched right.

Jesse tossed the badge into Joshua's lap, eyeing the two witnesses himself before returning to his brother with a vicious look on his face, "Looks like a duel, motherfucker."

His brother cringed at the words, quickly working his way back up to his own feet as he snarled, turning his crony, "The fuck do I do now?! I can still kill him, right?!"

"Not 'less you wan' a posse on ya," his henchman shrugged.

Now Jesse grinned, "You're still just a child; you know noth-"

"Shut up!" Joshua cried out, still nursing his cheek as he stumbled toward the door, "Get that fuck over there! We're getting' our of here!"

Jesse took a step forward, "You don't lay a finger on him."

The crony nodded, "I know duelin' laws, cowboy. He won' die s'long as I'm 'round."

"We TOOK 'im!" Joshua shouted, "Fair 'n square!"

"He's rig't; basic tak'rs laws."

Jesse cringed at the thought of losing this man, though he dropped his head, knowing he hadn't much choice. He would lose the battle here against two men, but later, against only his brother and a gun, he knew…

Joshua stumbled out the door, still clutching his face as he hobbled toward the car, the crony leaving Jesse with a final set of words as he grabbed Michael's arm to drag him outside, "See ya in town, cowboy. High noon."

Jesse watched in halfhearted defeat as his legs slowly began to give way, sending him back against the wall as he slid down to the ground, watching his last attachment to Overwatch being taken from him before his eyes. However distant and painful those memories seemed, that man was still his mission, and having had his family ripped from him, it was all he had. His head sunk as he took in his situation, shutting his eyes as he felt an assortment of tears welling up.

His brother had taken his family, and now he had to kill his brother. To obey Overwatch, he'd have to disobey his mother. and after all that he'd endured in returning home, in steeling himself, he now felt ready to relinquish the only home he'd ever known. to exorcise his demons once and for all.

And as for the Overwatch operative not a foot away from him, Lena Oxton, laying beneath the house in the dirt-ridden crawlspace, having given Jesse this final chance to escape, now wore a face of determination as she carefully tinkered with her Mei-order chronal accelerator.

In town, at high noon. Time to bring the cavalry.

* * *

 ** _A/N:_**

 ** _Jpbake: Yeah, honestly, in-game Ana, even I wouldn't write her as she appears in my stories. Whether Blizzard knows it or not, one of Overwatch's core themes is the 'changing of the guard', that is, the old settling down and making way for the new. This is exemplified in Ana being older and slower, while Widowmaker is young and spry, ultimately defeating the 'old guard'.  
While I've been focusing on the younger generation of Overwatch, I've always planned on drawing from that theme from the game, and while Ana doesn't necessarily come across as stubborn to the extent that I've written her, I needed somebody to sort of 'personify' that kind of unwillingness to pass the torch- given that she has a daughter vying for her place, so to speak, it seemed more appropriate than the 'teddy bear' known as Reinhardt, plus it gave plenty of nice scenes with Ana being apathetic toward her daughter's lover :p_**


	15. High Noon

Fareeha paced slowly along the square platform that sat below the town bell tower, keeping an eye out down the main drag of the town where two men had been standing alone, though there had been townspeople standing on either side along the buildings as if awaiting a show. As she'd been instructed merely to do reconnaissance, she'd jumped up here to remain out a sight, checking her wrist computer to go over the transmission that had come over the airwaves in an undeniably Overwatch encryption pattern, meaning that Lena must have sent it, though Fareeha couldn't have told from where.

"I…n…t…o…w…n…1…2…0…0"

Pulling her head up to watch the two men down below, Fareeha leaned against one of the bell house's support beams, keeping her eyes narrowed as the black-clad men ran drills, one of them practicing their quickness in drawing their weapon from their holster and firing the sidearm, though without ammunition.

"Is a duel going down?" she wondered aloud.

The speaker in her ear crackled before Angela's voice appeared, "Looks like it. Well have some profiles in a few more minutes; being newly reinstated, we don't exactly have access to as many profiling databases as we used to; Winston's on with somebody in San Francisco."

Fareeha nodded, "This is kind of exciting; this is like something out of the movies."

"Well, given that message, I wouldn't exactly be thrilled. I'd assume Jesse is the opposing participant if Tracer has you show up for this," Angela sighed, "God, what have those two gotten themselves into…"

"I don't have any bearing or communique on Tracer," Fareeha reported, "At least if Jesse does show up in ten minutes, he won't recognize me."

Angela groaned, "Dear, you do realize your eye makes you stick out like a sore thumb, right?"

"I'm bringing the wedjat back in style; I'm sure my mother and I aren't the only tan women running around. Did you see that image from the convention in Wales in honor of Overwatch returning? There were some dudes wearing 'em too," Fareeha shrugged to herself.

"Whatever you say," Angela frowned, leaving Fareeha to return her attention to the desert scene below,

She watched as a third man approach in a black outfit, suddenly appearing from one of the buildings, dragging a fourth man along behind him. The man looked worse for wear, not even putting up a fight as he was slid along the course earth below, his face dropping to the dirt as the black-clad man stopped alongside the others.

"Oh no..," Fareeha spoke softly to herself in worry, "Are we sure this is a duel? or is this an execution?"

Angela stared intently at her screen, watching the live feed from Fareeha's helmet with deepening eyes, "I don't know.. If we could get a cleaner picture of his face, we could…"

Her voice slowed to a stop as she watched the scene play out, the leader of the group seemingly taunting and kicking at the man, "I don't think that's Jesse… There!"

Fareeha looked on as Angela ran her attention toward an adjacent monitor, having caught the man's face for a brief enough moment to reroll the footage and grab a still, "I'll run it through our systems and hope for a quick enough match."

"Yeah. And be quick," Fareeha's voice muttered waveringly, "I can't watch this much longer without doing something about it."

It only took a mere moment or so for the Overwatch database to register a match, sending a shiver down Angela's spine as it loaded the results, knowing that the system cycled through their highest people of interest before anything else.

"Fuck…" she spoke in a whisper, "That's who she was talking about…"

"Who?" Fareeha asked, nearly in a worried tone.

Angela felt her heart jump in her chest as she took a deep breath, returning to Fareeha's feed, "Pharah, under no circumstance is that man to die, do you hear me? I'm going to get with Winston- this is bigger than anything else right now."

"What?!" Fareeha questioned with great confusion, watching the leader of the gang turning down the road with crossed arms, her eyes turning toward a man turning the corner from a adjoining street, the brim of his cowboy hat pulled low, a red cape running the length of his torso as he approached the men.

"We've got somebody- Hello?"

Having left her post to contact Winston, Angela left Fareeha blind outside her own vision, an unsettling feeling welling up within her as the lone man walked down the stretch of road. She reached back to clutch the rocket launcher she'd sat beside her, as though to prepare for action, though her wrist came to life as another transmission came across her equipment.

"…W…A…T…C…H…"

Fareeha frowned, closing her eyes as she groaned quietly to herself, knowing enough about Lena herself to know that her plans were often spotty at best. She reached a hand up to hold her head as it shook in uncertainly, always choosing field work specifically because she preferred to take orders than make them, her eyes thankfully flashing as Angela's voice returned to her.

"Pharah! That man is Michael Hale; he was seen in incredibly close contact with Amelié Lacroix before she murdered a senior Overwatch operative and disappeared; he CANNOT die, do you hear me?"

"U-Understood," Fareeha agreed, her legs running slightly numb at the sudden gravity of the situation.

Angela went on, "Anything to do with McCree is no longer your mission, alright? Get that man back here alive, understood?!"

Fareeha nodded, the camera feed denoting the action to Angela before returning her view to her wrist, "Do you think Tracer already has something planned out?"

"I wouldn't trust that girl to plan a birthday party!" Angela shouted as she watched the message play back on Fareeha's wrist screen, "You have your orders!"

Angela dropped her head into her hands as her mind reeled from what all was going on, and so suddenly as well. Tracer. "That man"… Was this the man they'd talked about the day before? Angela brought up the phone conversation on the side, playing it back with closed eyes.

 _"You think I'm bad, huh."_

 _"It happens to most people; you get to know that look of shock. You wore it after I showed you that man- sort of a depraved sort of shock, like you can't believe a man could act in that sort of way."_

Angela's eyes narrowed at the sudden thought they they had fallen into something that went far over their heads, with Fareeha in the middle of it. She noticed Jesse on the feed, her body leaning closer toward the screen.

"Pharah… Whatever you do-"

Fareeha lifted her wrist, watching it in her peripheral vision to keep Angela from seeing it through the camera in her helmet, finding another message from Tracer.

"…I …G…O…T…T…H…I…S…"

She couldn't help but feel uneasy at such a claim from that woman.

* * *

Jesse strode into town, unable to completely hide how sore he was, ultimately limping or even swaying forward every few steps. His back still stung from earlier, and even after however warm of a shower he was able to draw, his muscles still seized at his every movement, leaving him fairly broken as he eyed his brother beginning to stretch his arms as though it were nothing. He barely even noticed the crowd that had been drawn, duels still being a sought after form of entertainment out here, Jesse's eyes merely sunken in with focus as he stared at his brother.

"Look what the cat drug in," Joshua goaded toward his henchmen, grinning at his brother's near-shattered body, "Never thought you'd see this town again, did ya?"

Jesse didn't reply. He had business to tend to, though whatever hopefulness he gleaned came from how inexperienced his brother had to have been. Regardless of how he got to the top of the Deadlock Gang, he still only had experience being in a group; he hadn't ever needed to get his own hands dirty. Unlike Jesse with that Gang, or Overwatch for that matter, he knew, probably too well, how to kill by only his own hands, simply by himself.

Joshua shook his head with a grin, turning over his shoulder, "Get a load of this fuckin' guy. He always thought he was the shit back in the day; you remember, Victor."

The man behind him nodded as Joshua went on, explaining to the crony he'd taken to Jesse's home earlier, "Vic's been in Deadlock since Jesse was in it. Bet'cha never thought you'd be seein' one McCree kill another McCree, huh?"

Victor's face turned in slight disgust, "Guess I hadn't."

Jesse stopped about halfway down the street, checking the ground at his feet, finding a severely warm out pitching mound strip of plastic that sat two feet away from another, denoting where the duelists were to meet. He sighed, reaching up to lower the brim of his hat to shade his face, shutting his eyes as he recalled his promise to his mother, realizing too late that he'd lowered his hat to cover any tears that might show up upon his face.

"C'mon, brother," Joshua snickered, lifting his arms as his crony wrapped a belt and holster around his waist for him, "Not excited to die? I'd figured after all I'd put you through, y'know, I thought you might be looking forward to not feeling a thing."

Without moving or opening his eyes, Jesse replied lowly, "Just hand the man over and let me be. Nobody has to die here today."

Scoffing, his brother grimaced at the thought, "The fuck we're doin' that! You left me to die; I'm sure as Hell gonna make sure I repay the thought!"

"I already thought I had broken my promise to watch over and protect you," Jesse explained, "Don't make me go through that again. All mother wanted was us both to-"

"Pfft, fuck that bitch; she always put you up on pedestal," Joshua rolled his eyes.

"She wanted nothing but the best for us, even in this hell hole. You'll never understand that responsibility of watching over somebody else; you had it easy, little brother, _I_ never had the guardian that you had in me."

Joshua frowned, throwing his hand out to grab a revolver that Victor had held out for him, "You certainly did a mop-up job with that, Jesse. Running off and leaving me to fend for myself. So excuse me if I'm not exactly prepared to abide by promises you've already broken."

Jesse felt the same guilt welling up within him that would accompany him whenever he was being a recipient of his brother's beatings. He _had_ broken that promise already, no matter how unintentionally; having chosen to turn on the Deadlocks only because he'd thought his brother was already dead. He'd thought he had nothing left here; at the end of the day, he knew, he deserved to be broken by this man for all Jesse had put him through.

His eyes jolted open as he felt a tug at his pants, immediately seeing Michael at his feet on all fours, hanging onto Jesse's pant leg as though it were the only thing keeping him from collapsing. He thought of how much worse Joshua's torment was compared to his own if this man was so desperate to choose _his_ side over his brother's.

Jesse's face lifted up as he heard Joshua approaching, strutting up to the opposing strip like hot shit, he thought, though Victor was quick to dash up toward the dueling markers to halt the proceedings, "Hey! Hey! You, McCree; you haven't a second. This duel ain't starting unless you get one!"

"Goddamn; fuck the rules!" Joshua groaned, rolling his head around his shoulders in exasperation.

Victor growled, "I've partaken in some shit, Josh, but duels are the only thing keepin' all us from bein' animals! I'm not about to have this crowd kill us all fer not followin' the code! McCree! Get a second!"

Jesse shrugged, "You're lookin' at him."

Victor eyed him curiously, as did Joshua, before his eyes descended to the man clutching his leg, "This vermin?!"

"He's ready and willing," Jesse answered, licking Michael's hand off of him, "Ain't ya?"

Michael couldn't reply, though the appropriate seemed to satisfy Victor enough that he took a step back, shrugging in indifference, "Yer funeral, man. Can he fire a gun if your opponent displays illegal conduct in this fight?"

"My opponent won't have a chance to do so."

Victor felt a tingle down his spine at Jesse's words, giving seen his dead-eye in action enough times in years past. He raised his hands in the air, again in indifference, before stepping back, calling the savage etiquette as he did so.

"On 'ten', you both make your alterations, taking steps as I countdown," Victor explained emotionlessly, having done this often enough, "On three, you make ready at your weapons, on 'fire' you turn and do so. Understood?"

Jesse pushed Michael away as Joshua finished his strutting walk up to the white bar in the dirt, the two coming to meet face to face in the center of the street. Joshua kicked up some dirt to check his traction as Jesse watched him, perfectly still, staring right through his younger brother without anything of a twitch.

"I hope you don't lose your nerve, Josh."

His brother sneered, amused by his brother's sudden challenge.

"It'll be the easiest thing to put a bullet through your heart after what all you did to me," Joshua returned, "Just don't have any tricks up your sleeve."

In a second, Jesse's hand reached up and slid its thumb through the gap of his button-down shirt, ripping the top-most half of buttons to reveal his bare chest, slightly agitated by his brother's insinuation, "I cheat death. not life."

Joshua grinned, holding his wrist back against his waist, "You're not worried that I'm wearin' a vest?"

"You should've read up on your older brother," Jesse offered coldly, "That's not where I'll be aiming."

A chilling crawl of nerves ran up Joshua's spine as his face fell in a sudden look of haunted shock, leaving him just barely hearing Victor speak up.

"Duelists at the ready."

Jesse took his hand and cleared his shirt fabric from his holster, watching Joshua stare at him confused, "You're supposed to-"

"I KNOW!" Joshua roared, unsnapping his holster heatedly, whipping his head toward Victor, "Hurry it up! I'm ready to end this miserable bastard's life!"

Victor held up a hand as though to direct him to wait, taking a step back as he readied himself for the countdown. He pulled out a pocket watch as he watched its face slip along its final revolution before reaching 12:00. High noon.

"Ten."

Jesse and Joshua spun around in tandem, stepping in time with Victor's countdown.

"Nine."

"Eight."

"Seven."

Joshua held his hand palm-down above his revolver, keeping it as close as he could without touching it, nearly feeling a chill along its cold steel as Victor's voice turned to a cotton-balled beating in his ears, focusing so greatly on the duel that he nearly went blank at his mind, his fingers twitching just barely.

"Six."

"Five."

"Four."

"Three."

Jesse lifted his hand and hovered it above his own revolver, staring off into the distance, his face shaded from the high-sitting sun from his hat. He watched the mountain ranges crag along the skyline, the same picturesque scene that has captivated his wife and kept her anchored in this cold place. The same place that had taken her. The same place he now found himself saddled to.

"Two."

Joshua took in a breath, welling up his resolve, steeling his nerves as the pounding of the countdown reverberated in his head, only two more. He thought of nothing more than the weeks on end he'd been trapped beneath a rockslide, left to die by his brother, forced to tear his body up in escape. His entire life had been built on that betrayal; he'd scraped his way to where he was now, and he wasn't about to allow his brother the chance to take it away once again.

"One."

A cold breath left Jesse's nose as he shut his eyes, coming to a stop as the vision of the horizon was left painted behind his eyes, his wife and children springing to his mind as his index finger twinged above his sidearm. His head rolled back ever so slightly as he emptied his mind of every thought, flooding himself with nothing of darkness as a loud voice finally broke his concentration.

"Fire!"

Jesse dug his heel, spinning around as he slid his gun from its holster, lifting his arm to-

 _BANG_

His eyes flew open wide at the crackling air. His heart went numb as a thundering force flew into his chest, Jesse's legs giving way as he fell backwards, digging his knee into the dirt to keep himself afoot, his free hand flying up to cover his chest as his opposing arm remained aimed at his brother, whose eyes were just as wide in horror at the prospect of his brother being able to retaliate still.

Jesse's ribs cringed, his eyes winced from the pressure at his chest, still remaining focused as Joshua's hand slowly dropped only slightly, a cold look on his face as Jesse kept his aim true.

"Imposs-"

 _BANG_

Joshua's head whipped around, his shoulders and torso following along as his body sickly contorted, spinning around as it slammed into the ground with a massive _THUD_ , leaving the crowd with only a gasp at the sight. Victor's eyes were wide; he'd seen Joshua's bullet hit the man dead-center, yet Jesse still made his way to his feet, standing tall, his arm still outstretched.

He took a step toward his brother's now-lifeless corpse.

 _BANG_

More steps, his pace quickening.

 _BANG_

His teeth barred as he grit them forcefully.

 _BANG_

Tears welled up at his eyes, watching his brother's body recoil more and more with every bullet as he made his way closer.

 _BANG_

 _BANG_

 _click_

 _click_

Jesse lifted his arm up, bringing it down and throwing the gun with all his might at his brother, groaning loudly in anguish through his teeth as he made it above his brother, falling to his knees at his side and hitting him in the back, slumping over the corpse as he grappled its shoulders, spinning his brother's dusty face into view. Tears poured from Jesse's eyes as he punched him, again and again, wailing out in repeated grunts as he felt his knuckles nearly crumble from the force he was exerting into smashing his face in. He punched, again and again, crying and heaving until every ounce of energy had left him there on his knees, exhausted, unable to recognize his brother from the bloody and battered face that returned its look to him.

He gasped for air as he sat there, head buried as low as it could go, the hot air of the desert having already dried up his tears as his body rocked back and forth unevenly from his hollowed breaths. He shut his eyes on his brother one final time, gradually able to work his way back up to his feet as turn to the proprietor of the duel.

"You can keep the badge," Jesse muttered, his voice a shallow whisper, "I don't need it anymore."

* * *

Two streets away, the wooden door into a bathroom suddenly crashed open, finding not a soul there to have done such a thing. Slowly enough, however, a trail of lightly blue bursts of light, almost like bubbles, appeared in the air leading toward the bathroom sinks, a woman suddenly appearing out of nowhere with a massive, blood-curdling gasp. Lena grappled onto the two sides of the sink as she bent low over the porcelain frame, feeling as though she were about to eject every bit of her insides. Her knees were weak, her body sinking as she shook in violent shivers, falling down to a knee as she pressed her forehead against the cold porcelain of the sink, trying desperately to calm her body as her heart raced in dangerous tempo.

She reached a hand up and unstrapped the Kevlar vest she'd had on, grasping it and ripping it from herself before dropping it at her side, her eyes gingerly staring at it without removing her head from the coldness above. She stared at the bullet lodged in there, not an inch away from stealing her life.

Her fingers curled along the edges of the sink as she shut her eyes, quietly whimpering to herself in hushed murmurs as she thought of nothing else but Emily. How she missed her voice, her warmth; how close she had just come to losing everything about her, forever.

Slowly, her face broke away from the sink as she sat down, wiping her sleeve along her eyes to pull away her tears, a sudden emptiness filling up within her, prompting her to pull out her phone and stare at the picture of herself and Emily that greeted her, having no idea just how frightening the idea of losing her was.

Her hand fell away as she brought her legs toward her chest, curling up against her knees as her body shook with even more tears.


	16. The Return Home

Fareeha stood at the door of the Splitstream, having been given its coordinates by Lena and given the okay to leave her objective by Angela after seeing Jesse making his way out of town with Michael in tow. She adjusted her battle suit, her improved Raptora even less bulky before with even stronger shielding, though with the modifications done by Jamison, it was still a strain on her as she continued wearing it in. She yanked at its collar with her head held up, catching the vision of three people coming over the dune, with Lena clearly leading the two others, though Fareeha's face sunk quickly at Lena's downtrodden face, a look she hadn't an idea the woman was even capable of.

Her attention quickly shifted to Jesse McCree, who was dragging her objective with great difficulty, forcing Fareeha to jog out to meet them, bending low to grab ahold of Michael's ankles and neck as she lifted him up onto her shoulders, leaving a great relief of a sigh from Jesse, who looked up toward her with only the slightest hint of surprise.

"Well I know you're an Amari," he smirked knowingly, nodding as he tipped his hat before gesturing in Lena's direction, "I guess you're with this one?"

"Y-Yeah," she replied nervously, "I wish we could've met under more hopeful circumstances, but-"

McCree shook his head, "Please, meeting an Amari at any time can only mean good fortunes. Unless of course, you're not quite the soldier your mother was."

He grinned to signal his teasing, leaving Fareeha to blush at being so closely compared to her mother, "Well, uh, I mean, I think I am."

"After today, I'll take it," he smiled warmly, "I'm McCree. Jesse McCree. I assume my reputation has preceded me? especially given my tardiness in answering the recall."

Fareeha bit her lip, "Eh, I guess it's come up once or twice."

"Enough to send _this_ one, and an Amari out here," Jesse assured with a disbelieving shake of his head, "Never thought I ever gave everybody a reason to suspect I was such a traitorous dog of a man. Besides turnin' on my gang, anyway."

Hurriedly thinking of how to reply to such a self-deprecating comment, Fareeha rushed for an explanation, "N-Not at all! You're not the one they were ever worried about!"

Jesse's eyes turned sidelong toward her, a cold frown appearing as he stared at her as they continued walking, "That sick bastard actually did it, huh?"

Lena's ears perked at his words, quickly turning toward the two with a still distant face, "Guys, I don't think-"

"Reyes was always consumed with his legacy," Jesse groaned, "Genji 'n I always teased him that he couldn't ever keep his monument in his pocket."

He chuckled only until realizing he was in the company of two women, quickly clearing his throat and mind of further bawdiness before continuing, "Anyway, he was always obsessed with his legacy surpassing his existence. Once he became convinced that his time with Blackwatch wouldn't ever give him that, he gradually turned to more…extreme measures."

Jesse shook his head, "But that all's a bunch of stuff I don't care to recount here; I'm sure you've read the files, anyway."

Embarrassingly, Fareeha's lips turned in detective silence as Lena spoke up in explanation, "She's only been with us a few months, so she's been in the dark on a lot of it."

"Despite the fact that I've fought and died to him for a time, I've not been granted clearance to every single thing," Fareeha sighed.

Jesse eyed her once again as they came to the ramp that lead up to the Splitstream's door, "Well, they better give it to you soon. If this recall is goin' down, I assure you, Reyes won't exactly sit and watch the Watchers."

Lena lead them up the ramp, earning a concerned look from Fareeha as she crossed into the craft without shouting her catchphrase and smacking her palm into the fuselage above. Still, the soldier didn't point anything out, merely entering the ship and finding a spot for Michael to rest on their way home. Jesse stepped on in gingerly, taking in the interior of the craft with great interest.

"Been a while," he muttered, more to himself, as he examined further, "Still can't believe they trust you of all people to pilot this thin."

He turned to Lena, expecting a retaliation of teasing, though she merely continued walking into the cockpit, not bothering a reply, which caught Jesse off guard, "That was a joke, y'know."

"Oh, was it?" Lena asked quietly, "Sorry."

Jesse felt a biting tug at the back of his mind, though he didn't mull over it much, instead finding a seat just outside the cockpit where he could settle in for the ride back to Gibraltar, groaning with tire as he found the cushioned platform, sliding deep into it while his hands slid into his pockets. Lena only lazily poked around at the control panel, her heart sunk so far that her face remained unchanged from its emotionless state, simply waiting for the go-ahead from Fareeha.

"We were best friends growing up," Jesse suddenly spoke up from behind her, only causing her to lower her head deeper, "Josh and me, I mean. Back before our father died, from what I can remember, we were a perfect bunch, the four of us. I mean, it wasn't spectacular being in the desert, but we managed to make the most of it. Father telling us stories before bed, mother scrounging up enough change to make pancakes, which, whoa, that was big news in our household when it happened."

"They would go into town at night and hunt for loose change, doing whatever quick, odd jobs they could find while we slept. Doing whatever they could to make sure my brother and I were taken care of. I remember my brother and I, we got old enough to notice what was going on- Josh suddenly broke down and started bawlin' one night at dinner because he realized we were the only ones receiving meals. Mother and father only sat there and talked or watched us, going without for our sake."

His shoulder twitched restlessly as he worked his way deeper into the seat, seeking comfort, "Father died one day at his job. Mother never said what it was he did, but he came home black with soot, so I just figured he was a miner or somethin'. After that, our home life sorta got shaken down. Mother stayed out of the house more and more, leaving me in charge of Josh. We would always play around 'n wrestle 'n stuff, but she made me promise not to him anymore, to protect and look out for him when she was gone, so I did so. The playing stopped, which might have hurt my brother a bit more than my punching, now that I think about it."

"The more mother was away, the more we saw her cry. The more she cried, the more often we'd get pancakes in the mornings. but she never ate them herself. She would only sit and watch us, and then it was her turn to cry at the table sometimes. I assumed she'd been forced to turn to sellin' her body to provide for us. I know it hurt her like nothin' else; she would'a moved mountains for our father, and he'd 'a done the same for her. She would just cry more, and tell us more often that she was okay if we were okay."

"My brother figured it out at some point and never really respected her much afterward. He understood it well enough 'n cursed her out for being so weak and demeanin' herself to such a cheapened state- I'm paraphrasin'," he shrugged, "He was always so idealistic. I often admired him for it, but I couldn't ever forgive him for treatin' our mother the way he did after she'd gone 'n done so much for the two of us to survive. No matter how mad he got, how often he cursed her out, she pulled me aside, every night, telling me to look out for him."

Jesse reached up to grab ahold of the top of his cap, pulling it down to shield his face from the light, "That man took my wife and two children. He took my mother, and he took every ounce of loyalty I had to my family, my job, everything. It pains me even more to realize how much it hurts, still, knowing that I broke my promise and killed him. Without my word, my loyalty, I've got nothin' more than my hat, here. Unbound by anything in that shithole, I'm nothing but a vagrant with nowhere I belong. At least living under my brother's thumb, I had a home, no matter how painful it was."

Lena stared weakly at the screen in front of her, watching the fuel gauge quiver slightly with the passing atmosphere, her heart still somewhere in the pit of her stomach. Still, regardless of how stupid she'd been, she was still alive, and she still had a home to return to. Not even her flat in London; Jesse never found 'home' with any structure upon the earth. He sought it alongside his mother, his wife and children. As a bitter last resort, he found it beneath his brother's rule. Severing his bond with Joshua meant he no longer had a place.

"Hey Jess…" she asked somberly, turning her head over her shoulder only to be met with a gentle sort of snorting coming from McCree's snoring.

She initially frowned at the sight of her company being enough to induce sleep upon someone, though upon recalling how difficult sleep had been for him for years, she gave a sincerely small smile, relinquishing her attention from him as she returned to her seat, pulling her phone over and roaming through it, taking her time to admire the self-portrait of herself and Emily, as Reinhardt might call it. She scrolled through to her text messages, the mission officially over, as far as she was concerned anyway, and sent her thumb aflurry.

 _Comin' home, live!  
_ _love*_

Frowning at her phone's deepening mistrust of her grasp on the English language, Lena sped over toward her contact information, tapping on Emily's name to find the picture of her from when they first met, a warm smile creeping across Lena's face as she also noticed the deepening beauty she'd found in her lover. She quickly went through and edited the information, popping to her contact name and tapping in alteration.

 _My Emily-Home(:_

She smiled, quickly shutting her phone off as footsteps arose from behind her, shoving it back into the small storage indention made in the cockpit siding as Fareeha crept over into the co-pilot's seat, still looking over at McCree as she worked her seatbelt.

"Wow, he went out fast," she concluded with awe, "I know this heat makes for plenty of lethargy, but it's only been a few minutes."

She shrugged as she strapped in, her face lighting up gradually as she noticed Lena's livening spirits. The pilot began to prepare to leave, deciding not to warp the entire way in order to give Jesse some time to sleep, having to prepare for manual flight as Fareeha eyed her from the side, earning a suspicious glare from Lena as she tinkered with the control panel.

"What?"

Fareeha shrugged, returning her attention to the plain dashboard on her side, defeating the purpose of a co-pilot to begin with, her voice merely offering, "Nothing."

Lena hunched over low as she worked as though to hide herself, watching her passenger with a peevish glance. She made the final calculations before the flight, the Splitstream's engines beginning to whir to life as she pressed back against the seat to strap in herself, turning to see her phone illuminate from receiving a message.

"I saw you," Fareeha muttered without turning her head.

Lena's head whipped around toward her, "W-What?!"

The soldier turned to see McCree still asleep, his snores only increasing as a result, before she turned to Lena to reply, "You took that bullet for him."

Her eyes constricting, Lena couldn't find any words to speak in any sort of response, leaving Fareeha to shrug as she grinned, "You pulled that off during your and Angela's fight, remember? Wasn't too difficult when you can't dismiss sudden bursts of atmosphere as merely everyday occurrences."

Lena frowned, somewhat upset at being found out in some way, thought she still hadn't the will to speak up, simply clutching the steering wheel and lowering her head in a brooding manner. She was awaiting for Fareeha to berate her for being so stupid, or impulsive, the litany of things everybody criticized her for being, bracing herself for whatever Fareeha could say to degrade her act.

"I thought it was pretty neat," Fareeha spoke with a tiny smile, "Not everybody has somebody looking out for them like that. I'd say he's pretty lucky to have you as a guardian angel."

She shrugged, continuing along with a heartfelt timbre, "Look, I won't tell anybody. You broke, like, twenty-two different regulations, but still. Y'know, I was gonna say he must be someone special to you, but I realized you'd have done the same for any one of us if need be. You're just that kind of crazy, I guess. Stupid and caring and crazy."

Lena cracked something of a grin at Fareeha's words as the soldier got comfortable, trying to find a posture to sit in where her suit wasn't so constricting. She complained lowly to herself, finally finding something in the way of ergonomic peace before sighing however contentedly she was capable of, closing her eyes as jet-lag started to get the best of her.

Her eyes falling low in introspection, Lena quietly began to speak, "You can't be much of a hero if you don't believe in yourself. I believe in Jesse, and I know how much greater of an asset he can be when he believes it himself. That goes for everyone with a good heart."

"I guess I wear my heart too often on my sleeve, but… I know there are heroes in this world," Lena surmised, ever so whisperingly, "Maybe not enough, but that just means we can't lose the ones we have."

She quietly reached for the control panel, Fareeha's gentle voice forcing her to pause, "Just make sure we don't lose you, okay? For all the rest of us, a hero to heroes is more important than anything."

Lena managed to turn away before tears collected at her eyes, Fareeha smiling and keeping to herself in respect. The pilot carefully lifted a gentle hand up to wipe her face before it reached over to check Emily's message from a moment ago.

 _cheers, live  
_ _love*  
_ _;)_

Her body shook with stifled laughter before she returned the phone to its place, shaking her head with disbelief at the thought of having this person so closely tied to herself. While she had a flat to return to, the threshold into that place was the furthest thing from her mind. So greatly now, especially after such a narrow call with death, she only pined for Emily, and the thought of crossing into that space between her body and her arms.

A loud snore broke the air, the two women spinning around to find McCree having slumped along the back of the bench, laying on his back with an arm falling off the side, his hat lost to the floor to reveal this face, made softened by sleep. The women rolled their eyes at the sight, Lena shaking her head once again with a mischievous grin.

"You cut it close though," Fareeha spoke up, "I'm guessing you don't catch bullets like a magician, huh?"

Lena chuckled with a knowing sidelong glance, "I guess I mistimed it a bit. I didn't think its stopping power would be so tremendous either; before I knew it, I was flying backward into him. I thought for sure he'd know what I'd done. Doesn't seem like he's put any thought into it though."

"You knocked him straight down to his knee; I think we may have a viable use for such a thing in the field," Fareeha shrugged, "Y'know, our invisible girl bomber? It'd strike fear into everybody's heart."

A gentle smirk appearing at Lena's face, she merely reached forward to proceed with takeoff, concluding easily, "Let's just get home, okay?"

"Oh, well yeah," Fareeha agreed, a vision of a blonde-strewn lady's face crossing her mind, "I'd hate to delay a single second."


	17. Recall Completed

Reinhardt's hands clasped together excitedly as he spun around toward the small group of people who'd joined him at the doors out to the hangar bay, his eyes lighting up at the thought of Overwatch fully having been recalled as soon as Jesse McCree walked through those very doors. While the others had mixed enthusiasm, from even-keeled apprehension from Winston to down-right confusion from Jamison, Reinhardt took to the forefront of excitability as his warm voice roared over the scattered conversations surrounding him.

"Just think, everyone!" he spoke up loudly with a massive grin on his face, "With McCree's return, we'll be throwing the 'tentative' list of recallees out the window! And to think, since this group's dissolution and return, we've actually grown with far-greater recruits than we could have ever hoped to attain!"

He turned to Jamison's direction, earning a particularly wonderous smile from the Junker. Reinhardt started in his direction even, leaving Jamison to offer a humble hand to be shaken, clearing his throat as he struggled to remain cool and collected under this Crusader's gaze, though as Reinhardt approached him, he failed to stop, forcing Jamison's eyes wide with confusion, leading to a sad recoil as Reinhardt ultimately reached out in Aleksandra Zaryanova's direction.

"Just look at this beast!" he admired loudly, Zarya blushing at the unexpected recognition, "You'd have carried our whole unit out of Eichenwald if you'd been there, no doubt!"

She lowered her head with a shy grin, "Eh, er, my thanks, sir."

Reinhardt continued to marvel at her gigantic build until Ana made her way through the crowded hallway to pull him away with a grumble, "Hands off the merchandise, dear."

"Come now, my adenium, I haven't seen biceps like those since my days with the Gryphons!" he pleaded, though Ana and Zarya both were quite relived to see him subdued.

Jamison eyed her in critiquing, nodding to himself as he muttered aloud, "Too true, though. Oi, Roadie! If ya got yer gut in yer arms, look what you'd accomplish, mate!"

His teasing grin was met with a vicious glance from Roadhog, who merely shook his head before returning to himself, leaving Jamison to pine at Mei's sudden words, "I've got the a/c gun ready for action! If Jesse's stricken with heatstroke from being out in the desert for so long, this puppy'll bring him to life faster than a… What are those long-eared things called?"

"Jackalope," Jack answered mutedly.

"Faster than a jakalope!" Mei finished, toying with the gun in her hand, shaking it suddenly with a nervous chuckle, "Ehh… Well, there's something… Nothing a little percussive maintenance can't fix! Jamie, if you would?"

Jamison grabbed the a/c gun and gave it a swift smack, sending the internal "frostbustion" engine to whirr to life, sending a gleam of excitement into Mei's eyes, "Beautiful!"

She whipped around to finish her final modifications, spinning absentmindedly around as she fixed the weapon, suddenly sending it skyward in triumph, "Ta daa-!"

Freezing in place, she couldn't help but stare at the gigantic woman who now stood in front of her, Zarya watching her with innocent confusion, as though the two of them had no idea what to make of the other. Mei lowered her arm in recoil, though as she stared up at the giant, pink-haired lady, she couldn't have but offer her gun to her, like a child offering lunch money to a bully.

"Uhh, you sure you don't need a cooling blast..?" Mei wondered, quietly.

Zarya's eyes narrowed in confusion, though Mei explained, nervously, "I-I mean, with all that muscle… You sure your internal engine's not about to, uh…bust?"

Confused still, Zarya's head fell to the side as Jamison nervously reached back to pull Mei from her presence, offering a friendly enough smile up toward the massive woman before closing in on Mei, whispering, "I don't think she works any different than any of us, sheila…"

"Prosti. I apologize for them all," Angela spoke up as she approached Zarya from the side, shaking her head with crossed arms, "The weirdness is sort of an acquired taste, I suppose. Most of them don't know how to turn it off when meeting normal people."

Zarya shook her head, "No, no. Very relieving, truly. Preferable to where I come from. Everybody there so scared and worried of omnic attack. Everybody here so carefree; no worry."

With a smile, Angela nodded, "I guess that's a nice way to think about it. How's your village been doing since you showed up here the other day?"

"Not bad," she answered with a hopeful grin, "Omnium under control. Won't fall into same, uh, pitfall as Australia. Mako very helpful with such things."

Angela's eyes narrowed in curiosity, turning up to Zarya with a quiet voice, "Mako?"

The giant woman gave a gentle throw of her head toward Roadhog, who remained leaning against the wall keeping to himself, at least until he noticed Angela's gaze, the doctor's brow furrowing as she spoke up, "You'll tell _her_ your name?!"

Roadhog shrugged, "Call it an omnic-warrior's honor. Ask me again when you've battled your share of those things."

A lighthearted snicker appeared as Genji made his way down the hallway toward the mass of people, patting Angela's shoulder with a teasing grin, "Ziegler might not be able to address any of us by name if that's the case."

The doctor frowned, "I could always start harming others right this second, you know."

Genji smiled at her sarcastic threat, simply patting her again before making his way through the group, "Where's that old bastard?! I haven't had his ribs to dig my elbow into for years!"

Winston cleared his throat as he stood beside the hangar door, checking his watch, "Uh, just a few minutes. The Splitstream's just a few hundred miles out. Fareeha is piloting it, so it's not as though she can navigate warp space."

"Fareeha?!" Ana asked suddenly.

Shrugging, Winston answered, "Said Lena stopped by London on the way. She assured me she'd return by the time operations begin once again."

"Yeah, when exactly does that go down?" Reinhardt wondered aloud, ready for some direction.

Winston turned toward Jack Morrison, the man standing with his back against the wall, his hands meeting behind him in a sort of officer-like pose, "That's for your captain to decide. Well, and all the bigwigs over at the U.N.. Oh, and Gabrielle Adawe has a pretty massive say in our operations still."

"Other than all that," Winston assured cautiously, "We're sort of flying solo as far as the governments of the world are concerned. Adawe assured us she'd handle anything that needed handling."

Reinhardt suddenly thrust himself into the air from his tip-toed, examining the room as he turned in a circle, "And where's Torbjörn?! That old dog hang 'em up?"

"He's operating in a consultant capacity at this point," Winston pointed out, "That doesn't surprise me. His wife would be his number one enemy were he to leave her with that whole gaggle of children running around."

Angela shivered at the thought of a creature inside of her wreaking havoc the same way Torbjörn's many grandchildren did the last she'd visited his home. Still, her head jumped up at the door buzzed, signaling the hangar bay being in use, in this case, by the Splitstream. She tried to peer beyond the clump of Overwatch operatives await the return of Jesse McCree, though her point of attention wasn't him, but rather the man he was bringing with him. She waited patiently, still, as the door churned to life, revealing Jesse McCree standing on the other side, his eyes jumping wide in shock at the sight of so many people before him.

He leaned toward Winston, slowly pulling the brim of his hat down over his eyes, "Hey… You know ya got a bunch a' people just standin' over there, right..?"

Winston grinned, "That's what you get for showing up fashionably late, my friend. Welcome back to the fold."

Before he could answer, Jesse's head whipped to the side as two gargantuan arms flew around him, Reinhardt squeezing the life out of him as he pulled him up into a gigantic hug, "Jesse! You old dog! How are ya?!"

"D-D-…"

"What?" Reinhardt chortled happily, "Darned happy to be back?!"

Jesse's voice strained, "D-Dy-Dying…"

This only made Reinhardt laugh even louder, though he ultimately returned Jesse to the ground, the cowboy hunched over in soreness as he shook his head, clutching his arm, "G-Good seein' you too…"

He nodded toward Ana as he noticed her, "Amari."

"Cowboy."

"Your daughter really is a spittin' image, huh."

Ana smirked wryly, "And don't you dare get near her just to try and live vicariously within my grasp, cowboy."

"I wasn't-"

She continued with a chuckle, "Besides, she's in our doctor's care, anyway."

"Wait, she's-?"

"Uh huh," Angela answered prematurely as she pushed through the group, offering a hand, "I look forward to seeing your charts, McCree. Just from the look of it, I'll have my hands full."

Jesse shook his head, "Half of it was from Reinhardt a moment ago, I assure you…"

The doctor grinned, giving up on a handshake in exchange for reaching up and grabbing at his hat, pulling it from his head, "I'll make sure this gets fixed up."

"Yeah, 'n no nicks this time," Jesse frowned, "Last time it was washed, the-"

The group fell silent as Genji stepped out from the assortment of operatives, his mask-less face revealing a particularly unhappy frown as he stepped slowly toward McCree, the cowboy groaning as he forced himself p straight, almost as if squaring himself up for a fight. Winston bit his lip as he eyed Reinhardt, the Crusader nodding to assure him that any such encounter wouldn't be tolerated so long as he were there. The two Blackwatch men eyed one another with sinister glances, Genji's lips pulling together in reserved frustration while McCree looked on.

Not two feet from one another, Genji took in a breath as he examined the cowboy from head to toe, his head shaking in appraisal as he spoke up, quietly, "You look like shit."

Jesse eyed him steadily, "Have you missed every mirror these last few years?"

Genji's brow sunk angrily at his words, though just as quickly, a grin crossed his face before he threw his arms out to embrace his old colleague, Jesse weakly returning the favor as the ninja spoke up, "It's so good to see you again, old friend!"

"Likewise," Jesse assured, though with little change in his tone.

Genji took a moment to heartily pat his friend's back before pulling away, holding his shoulders with heavy grips, "By the gods, the Wild West was not good to you. You look wilder than it!"

At that, Jesse cracked a smirk, "I sure feel like it. I got a good nap on the way over, so this is me on my good side."

Genji shook his head in disbelief as Jesse turned to notice Captain Morrison eyeing him from the side, "We'll have to catch up, Gen."

"Absolutely," Genji assured, releasing Jesse as the cowboy approached his, apparently, new captain, seeing as how Reyes was no longer filling the spot.

Jesse grinned, turning over his shoulder to muse toward Genji, "You been counting this guy's grey hairs?"

Genji snickered beneath Jack's unamused glare, the captain merely lowering his shoulders with an uncharacteristic subdued posture, his voice gravely as always, "Is this going to be a routine thing?"

"Nah, nah," Jesse assured, much to Jack's relief, "Y'know the whole friendly rivalry thing, that's all. Considerin' Reyes' situation 'n all, y'know, I'm excited to be under the great Jack Morrison's direction."

At the mention of Reyes, Angela's face fell, though Jack only reached out to give a directing hold upon Jesse's shoulder, turning him toward the group, "Not too much has changed. We've got the old-timers; you know Reinhardt, Ana, and me. We've got the younger guys, namely you, Genji, and Ziegler there, and Lena's out and about. As far as new guys, there's the young Amari, we've got a Junker, Jamison- his buddy over there is just hanging out. You got Mei as well, you know her, and then there's Aleksandra in the back there, known as Zarya. Winston's still our eyes in the sky."

Jesse eyed the whole of the group, speaking up weakly, "Guess I got a lot of catchin' up to do. How y'all doin'?"

Winston turned a serious eye to Jack, who pushed Jesse along, "We'll get to doing that at the mess hall, don't worry. We made sure to get stuff delivered again- for all these weirdos, none of them know how to cook. The Junker can cook a wheel, I suppose."

"And boy, if it weren't the best bang fer ya buck this side o' Melb'urne!" Jamison proclaimed happily, the group slowly making its way down the hallway on Jack's direction, leaving only Winston and Angela behind as they turned to examine the hangar bay.

Angela waited a moment longer before releasing a sigh, calling out, "Okay, Fareeha. Come on out."

Not a moment later, Fareeha appeared from the Splitstream, clad in her Raptora, her arms full with the man Angela knew to be Michael, her voice quiet as she spoke up, "He's just sleeping. I made sure he got some nourishment on the ride."

"Good," Angela sighed, turning toward Winston as he examined the man himself, "He's the guy?"

Winston nodded, "I've seen that face on my computer more times than I could ever hope to remember, save for the long hair."

Angela bit her lip, "You think it's a good idea to keep it from Ana?"

"Yes," Winston nodded, "We'll see what he knows. I don't want her jumping to conclusions or anything."

Angela nodded in agreement as Winston turned back to enter into the base once again, "Take him to Hold-G. I'll make sure he gets the proper arrangements. The best thing Jesse did was make it easy for us to seem like heaven, I suppose. Hopefully he'll be more willing to talk with just a little care."

"Alright," Angela replied, somberly waving for Fareeha to go along, the soldier slowing as she leaned over to give the doctor a swift peck on the lips, which she returned.

Fareeha spoke apprehensively, "This is a big deal, isn't it?"

Her eyes shutting regretfully, Angela sighed mutedly, "This man could be the key to us getting a foothold into Talon, and therefore, Reaper. One of the driving reasons for us all getting unshelved was the rising threat of Talon to begin with. Pretty big for an initial lead, and one that means a great deal for your mother."

Fareeha frowned slightly with worry, her eyes widening as Angela continued, "Oh, by the way, your mom and I are kind of friends now."

"Wait, wh- How long was I gone?!" Fareeha stammered, even more worried by what she was now hearing.

Angela grinned, pointing indoors, "Just get him inside. We'll talk about this later over drinks."

She gave her soldier a wry sort of wink, "Then you can talk over me for our de-briefing."

"I hold one of the most magnanimous developments in Overwatch's history in my arms and you can't help but resort to innuendo," Fareeha shook her head, "Sorry my love, but I'm _not_ that easy."

Angela couldn't help but grin as she followed along, shaking her head in disbelief, "You're certainly not easy to keep safe, either."


	18. A Kings Row Rendezvous

Emily's head jumped up from her book as a knock at the door broke her concentration, turning her legs off the couch and riding to her feet, never quite as wary of opening the door to just anybody as Lena probably would have wanted to. The pilot had always likened herself to a secret agent, with Emily being her dame which she had to hide her identity in order to keep safe, though truthfully, as Emily found out, even after Reaper's invasion of their Watchpoint in Gibraltar, their data was so strewn out across so many servers, nothing about any agent could possibly have been ascertained.

To that, Emily was rather comfortable opening the door to anybody, and especially to her neighbors, an older couple whose company they mutually enjoyed. She grabbed the handle as she leaned into the peephole, a wide grin appearing at her face as she rapid swung the door open, bringing in a burst of cool night air as Lena stood there with a blank expression that Emily was far too excited to notice. She hopped down the topmost step and embraced her lover, Lena only faintly reciprocating in kind as her arms only softly held Emily's waist.

At that, Emily immediately noticed her downtrodden attitude, quickly pulling her head away with worry, "What's wrong?"

Lena did her best to wear an ultimately faint smile, "Oh, nothing… How are you doing?"

Emily returned to a sincerely smile as she gently pulled Lena into the house, closing the door behind them, "I'm doing swimmingly now, dear. I wish you would have told me you were so close, I'd have started dinner and had it ready and all. Dear me, Lena, you look positively exhausted."

"I'm fine," Lena shrugged indifferently, earning a curious glance from her lover as she turned back toward the door, "You wanna just go get something? I'd hate to put you out so suddenly 'n all."

Emily nodded, "Yeah, I suppose. Let me just get my sweater; it's a bit chilly out."

She made her way to the closet, her face crinkled in worry, knowing very well that it took an awful lot to put Lena in such a mood. More than worried, she was curious as to its cause, though Lena rarely 'brought work home with her', as it were. Still, in these sorts of funks, Emily couldn't help but equate it to the same thing in her mind. All Lena needed her to be, however, was her escape from whatever ailed her, and a stroll and a bite to eat in London would have to do wonders, she figured.

She pulled her woolen sweater on to cover herself before peering around the corner, finding Lena leaning against the entryway wall, fists stuffed in her jean pockets as her head fell low in regretful meditation. Emily frowned as she pulled her hair through the neck of her sweater, making her way toward the door and grabbing Lena's arm, weaving the two together as she pressed closer still.

"It's always nice having you home," Emily mused quietly, "It's so quiet without you. and you come back with that rough look like you've come back from war. Plus, it means you're safe. I know the world's perfect and we're safe when you're in my arms."

Lena's lips curled distastefully, "I'm always in your arms."

Emily's eyes turned pithy as she challenged, "That's such rubbish; every chance you get, you're off bursting through walls and junk. I can barely keep your hand in mine without you dashing off to some ice cream stand or making a mad run across town because there was some report of a sea lion lounging around the docks."

At this, Lena wore a contemplative face as she ruminated in her words, ultimately grabbing ahold of Emily's hand tighter, her voice a cool seriousness, "Alright. Tonight we'll go out; you, and only you, have me this evening."

Emily grinned at the thought, "You've said that before, you-"

Her eyes grew in surprise as Lena pulled away, her hands pulling up her thick shirt before crawling up her torso, a gentle _*click*_ breaking the quiet air as Lena pulled her chronal accelerator out from beneath her clothing, handing it off to Emily, who watched with surprise.

"There is no getting away from you without that," Lena spoke with a smarmy sort of grin.

Emily grabbed the rather hefty piece of equipment, pulling it close to examine its sleek edges. It was the only thing keeping Lena tied to this world, and to her; yet it was also the vehicle with which she ran off to save the world, countless times. She eyed Lena with a confused look, though Lena only shrugged in assurance.

"I mean, you need to keep it with you. If I get far enough away, poof, so, ya know," Lena smiled, turning to reach for a nearby purse to carry the mechanism, "Here. You always looked pretty with green."

Emily frowned, "I look like Christmas."

"I know," Lena smiled, reaching her face down to give her a kiss before dropping the accelerator into the purse and draping overtop Emily's head, "Where to?"

Adjusting the strap across her chest, Emily shrugged, "I don't know. There's a new place near King's Row that opened up; some posh little burger place or something. Y'know, with those little finger-burgers that are all the rage."

"Well, after you, love," Lena smiled slightly as she pulled the door open, allowing Emily her exit before following along and locking up while Emily made her way down the steps toward the street, turning to watch Lena follow along.

She giggled, "I can't remember the last time I saw you come down the stairs like a normal person."

Lena cooly grabbed the ends of her jacket and pulled them out with boyish zeal, cocking a grin, "I can't help that I make it look good both ways."

Her eyes rolling, Emily turned toward the sidewalk as Lena wrapped her arm around her's, the two's hands joining together as they made their way down the London street. Emily always enjoyed simply sightseeing, and lost in a whimsy from Lena's return, and without errands, she took the chance to watch the city around them as it crawled by, their pace having been slow from the start. She could tell from Lena's silence that there was still something up with her, though she knew it was something better left unspoken by her. Whenever Lena was upset, or just generally in a bad mood, she would often pull inward and keep to herself; Emily knew to leave her be for the most part, assured that Lena would open up and return to her in due time.

Her attention so fixed on the landscape surrounding her, Emily didn't notice Lena's gentle smile at the warmth at her side. It was a warmth meant only for her, she knew, and for nothing in exchange save for her own warmth which belonged only to Emily as well. As currently introspective as she was, Lena had fixed so greatly on the feeling, realizing that, normally, her mind might be off on fifteen different things. The thought of losing this crept up in the back of her head once again, however, returning her lips to something of a frown.

"I believe it's called 'Medallion'," Emily suddenly spoke up, pulling out her phone and thumbing across the screen, "Let's see… Across the north end of Wayneau Park, just along- Oh look! They've got those pan-baked chocolate chip cookies you love with the ice cream on top!"

She threw her hand in front of Lena's face, the pilot's body recoiling out of instinct as she stared at the phone screen, gingerly poking at it and scrolling down the webpage, a regretful voice leaving her, "I think those are only available during the holidays. See?"

"What?! No way!" Emily whined, yanking the phone back toward her with a frown, "Well that's just straight tosh, now isn't it? Sorry about that. They have milkshakes too, I suppose."

Her lips curled dissatisfactorily as she run her thumb along the screen, "It's got great reviews and all; it's really become the toast of the town. Oh, here's a picture I took of that project-… Remember that schematic I was working on? Voila!"

The phone traded hands as Emily swung her paired arm in a large, blissful arc as Lena examined the photo of a small-scale building, the result of Emily's weeks-long ordeal to properly render her architectural firm's blueprints in a virtual setting to be 3D printed into a model. She mouthed silently in wonderment as she pulled the phone closer to examine its details further, leaving Emily to press on with enthusiasm.

"We're in the bidding for a new building in Numbani!" she explained, "It's gonna be the first outside of Utopaea to be constructed with hard-light; _I_ may help to design an actual building!"

Lena nodded with a quieted voice, "Wow, that's incredible. You've certainly worked hard enough, I know."

Emily grinned brightly, "This has consumed me for weeks, and weeks, and weeks; ugh! It's finally coming up roses! How about your work? How's that big ol' gorilla doing?"

"Oh, about that…" Lena murmured to herself, reaching into her jacket pocket and pulling out a worn Polaroid photograph, handing it to Emily, "He said you'd asked about him as a gorilla infant and he found this rummaging through his physical files at headquarters."

Her expectant smile bright, Emily snagged the photograph and excitedly brought it close, "Aww, look at him! Who's that with him?"

Lena leaned over to peer along her shoulder, "Oh, he called him Specimen Eight. It was a hamster that underwent the same stuff Winston did."

As her eyes coiled in focus, Emily quietly spoke up with curiosity, "Is that a drip-bottle nozzle that's been fashioned into a screwdriver..?"

"He said not to ask," Lena frowned, "But look, you can see his cowlick."

Emily nodded gleefully, "Aww, look at 'im! Little bugger. Tell him I said thanks next you talk to him. I'll even make up some cookies for him. When's your little furlough up, anyway?"

Expecting a reply, Emily slid her phone back into her pocket, staring at her tiny boots as they crossed the lines of the sidewalk for a moment before her eyes fell in skepticism, turning up toward Lena with a serious look on her face. She stopped in her tracks, Lena so lost in thought that she continued along until her hand tugged her back a step, her head slowly whipping around with a confused look on her face.

"Lena, what's wrong?" Emily asked, now more serious as her mind began to wonder, "This _is_ just a furlough, right? You didn't…quit, did you?"

Quickly, Lena answered with a halfhearted, "No, just-."

She took a deep breath, pulling her hands from her pockets as she nervously fiddled with her fingers, eyes shifting away as her shoulders fell, "I did something stupid."

Emily crossed her arms, her brow furrowing in slight worry, "What, like teriyaki sauce on your ice cream stupid, or-"

Her lover's eyes falling even lower, Emily quietly found the rest of her sentence, "-or hairspray in your warp space stupid..?"

Lena's fingers crawled up to cling at either wrist, pulling her arms into her as she shut her eyes, her voice emerging with a regretful timbre, "I did my job. at your risk. I put my job over you and I can't help but feel so torn up inside about it."

Her lips curling sadly, Emily took a few steps forward to wrap her arms around her lover, "C'mon, Lena. Going into this wild ride, I understood what you do and all that; I mean, I worry, but it's not like it's a-"

"I nearly lost you," Lena interrupted, her voice breaking past a scratchy throat, "I was so stupid, I nearly lost you forever."

Still not fully comprehending her words, Emily nonetheless tried her best to comfort her lover, her arm running up and down her back as Lena quivered in her arms, her hands suddenly grasping Emily's sides and quickly running up to the back of her shoulders, as though she were trying to pull her even closer than she currently was.

"I never, _ever_ wanted anything to keep me from you," Lena spoke with a strained voice, her voice perfectly still in Emily's arms, "Now I'm afraid my work… I don't think I want to do this if it means losing you."

Emily's head lowered to watch Lena's body covering her own, her chin running through her dark hair as she spoke quietly, "Lena, I know-"

"I could've died," Lena clarified, weakly, almost in a whisper.

A silence fell on the two of them as they stood there on the sidewalk, a chilling breeze crossing them and sending their hair fluttering in the wind. Lena's eyes stared weakly into Emily's sweater, having had her head buried against her shoulder, a pang of guilt welling up from with her, ever more so than before, now realizing how warm she was, realizing just how much she'd nearly lost.

Emily's lips curled in confusion, "Okay, first of all, is this news?"

Lena's face fell in her own mystified expression, pulling her head away far enough to peer up at her lover, "What?"

"I feel the need to remind you, Lena Oxton, that when we _met_ you were in the middle of an assignment, and when we _met_ you were putting your life in the line. How is this any- You literally sent me an April Fool's text the other year telling me you were being tortured before waiting ten minutes, just at 11:55, to send me a photo of you drowning in a landslide of stuffed animals."

Lena frowned, "Hey, I'm having legitimate feelings here, okay?"

"Why now of all times?" Emily sincerely wondered with an exasperated tone.

Her lover's head falling once again, Lena sighed, "I guess I always thought that you were so much more vastly important to me than anything, I just feel guilty that, on the spot, I could have died without a second thought."

Emily's eyes narrowed with realization, though Lena's current troubles weren't entirely foreign to her by now. She pulled Lena's head back into her, leaning down to give a gentle kiss on her scalp, finding nothing but softness there as she caught the scent of rosemary mint, knowing she'd inevitably planned out her return home. Without relinquishing her hold on Lena's hand, Emily pulled away, tugging her along down the sidewalk, much to the pilot's surprise.

"C'mon," she smiled, "Let's go eat."

Lena's brow curled in sorrowful confusion, "Em, I'm having a real-"

"Shh," she replied, taking her turn to interrupt, "Let me show you something."

Sighing, Lena acquiesced, her feet patting alongside Emily's hurried gait. Living just hardly outside the city, it took no time for them to enter the metropolitan area, the increasing foot-traffic making their bond along their fingers all the more tight as Emily pressed on, leaving Lena rather perturbed by her insistence despite her lingering emotions. They entered into Wayneau Park, an omnic-inclusive area that had sprung up just years ago, more so in symbolism than for much anything related to actually greenery in the middle of London's scenery.

There was grass, and something resembling a tree, but for the most part it was embellished with metallic structures resembling crude statues, most of them created by local omnics and maintained by the state. There were play areas and benches, though Emily drove on without a second glance, leaving Lena in further confusion as she nearly tripped on one such statue after Emily took a narrow turn, her purse nearly jostling to the point of hitting Lena's face.

"E-Em! I-!"

"Shh!" she persisted once more, stopping and turning around, watching Lena's exhausted face, for once being the recipient of the other's endless energy, "What do you see here?"

Lena's shoulders fell defeatedly as she spun around slowly, trying to ascertain Emily's purpose for bringing her here, "I don't know; that place we were going is around here somewhere, ain't it?"

Emily crossed her arms, almost amused by Lena's imperceptibility whenever she was flustered, her red hair billowing in the wind as she turned to see the particular reason why the park had been placed here, earning her a stare as Lena followed her gaze without conclusion.

"Kings Row, dummy," Emily grinned with amusement.

Lena sighed, "Maybe for you Lewisham girls; us Islington gals know Kings Row doesn't start until the fork hits the Thames."

Emily's eyes rolled humorously as she sighed deeply, "Just hush, okay? _Why_ would I bring you here?"

Growing slightly frustrated, Lena simply shrugged, "I don't know. Why?"

"Look, Lena, I've _always_ known where your heart lies. It's the reason you became a pilot in the first place; your heart is always too flighty for own good," she shrugged with a sincere smile, her head tilting to the side at Lena's surprised expression, "All your body can do is try and keep up. I knew the moment I met you; it's one of the reasons I fell for you. I'm just a London hick; I don't know anything else, but you're always off on adventures."

She stepped forward, taking hold of Lena's hand and running her fingers across her palm lazily as she went on, "Your heart will always be with Overwatch. That's always been your escape from the doldrums of this city, and even from me."

"Th-That's just not true!" Lena retorted, though Emily quieted her with a knowing stare.

"Come on; we both know you'd go stir crazy in my flat, admit it. I know you couldn't handle being here 24/7…but you're here when it matters. when it counts. I just send a text, and you're here," Emily smiled, "Even if your heart lies with Overwatch, you still managed to bring me, and my city, to peace down down that abbey. If your goal is a world that has no danger in it, then everything you do for Overwatch, you do for me. Every time I come down this way, I remember how you're off being a hero, and not just _my_ hero."

She closed Lena's fingers into a fist, placing her hand atop hers with a smile, "So quit all this guilty stuff, okay? I know what I signed on to when I returned that kiss you gave me."

Lena's lips curled unsurely, her eyes raising up to inadvertently give Emily a puppy-dog gaze, "You sure?"

"Yes!" Emily exclaimed with a smile.

After a ruminating sigh, Lena shrugged, "Okay. If you say so."

She reached out for the purse around Emily's torso, grabbing a handful of air as Emily recoiled just in the nick of time, the red head teasing as he held up two fists two feign defense, "Nuh uh! I've got you tonight, remember? I sorta like the idea of watching you sitting there all jumpy."

Lena bit her lip, already feeling the molecules charging and expelling energy within her, almost regretting Emily having cheered her up somewhat. It was much more bearable when she was depressed, but now, an electric rumble shook her core, particularly as Emily began to bound away with a giggle. Lena reached out, dashing after her with a panicked look on her face.

"H-Hey! I don't know how far I can get from that thing!"

Emily giggled as she slowed her speed, "Then I guess you'll just have to catch me!"

Lena broke through the crowd with a leap, hitting the ground just at Emily's side and wrapping her arms around her, tight, spinning her in a circle as momentum caught up to her, watching her red-haired angel's face amidst a backdrop on endlessly spinning lights and silhouettes; a world where, for the briefest of moments, all there was were these two lovers. Emily's laughter came to an abrupt halt during her hold, only peering into Lena's eyes as they slowed to a stop, with her lover failing to release her.

"You can't get rid of me that easy," Lena spoke quietly with a reckless sort of grin.

Emily stuck out her tongue in teasing, "Guess I'll just have to put up with you forever then."

Lost in one another's oft-trembling lips as their eyes fell within one another, they barely noticed the nearby crowd breaking, leaving a pair of bewildered patrons of the park in Lena's sight as she turned toward them, Emily following along with a blush.

"Yea', this's _my_ beau'ifow creature; what's it to ya, then?!" Lena goaded with something of a lioness' roar, her cockney finding its way into her voice as the pair of sightseers jostled along, leaving the women be.

Her scowl subsided as she returned her attention to her lover, Emily's blush covering her smile at being taken aback. Lena eyed the crowd around them suspiciously, now simply playing the part, as she pulled her lady along, Emily more than happy to be escorted by this bold individual.

"Okay, okay, you can cut it out," Emily muttered in between giggles as Lena shoved a furious gaze in a passerby's face.

Lena shrugged, her arms still firmly around Emily's shoulders as she guided her along, "Just showing them all what's good. Uh…and you'll probably want me to continue along with it if you want a table any time tonight…"

"Oh no…" Emily spoke, sadly, the two of them across from the storefront of 'Medallions', the line of visitors wrapping clear around the building, "It's, what, nine o'clock? How long have they all been waiting?"

Lena shrugged with a sigh, "Well if this ain't a two 'n eight."

With a quick glare, Emily muttered, "Okay, enough of the cockney, dear. What do we do now? Just get a bite somewhere on the way home? There was a fast food place back a'ways."

Her lips folding in thought, Lena pushed herself up onto her tiptoes, gradually turning her head around the mass of people surrounding them, crossing her arms as she descended once again, tapping her chin before pointing at Emily's purse.

"I've got an idea, but I'm gonna need that."

Emily frowned, "…you sure?"

"I'm not going anywhere, love," Lena assured with a smile, reaching into the purse undeterred, whipping out her chronal accelerator and strapping it overtop her clothes, "Well, I will for a few moments."

A skeptical glare appeared at Emily's face, though Lena was quick to explain, rather nervously at that, "I'm serious! Look, just head over to that food truck over there, alright? The Italian food one, see it?"

"Well where are you going?"

Lena only gave a grin before suddenly evaporating out of existence, leaving nothing but a trail of blue bubbles in her place. Quite familiar with such things by this point, Emily only sighed as she pushed her way through the crowd, wondering what it was Lena possibly could have up her sleeve. She didn't even know the food truck people, she already figured. Still, she made her way out from the collection of people working their way through the crowded cosmopolis of Kings Row, taking a relieved breath as she stepped up to the truck, the chef staring at her as he tapped a mallet against the white sleeve of his chef's coat.

"You the read-head?" he asked mutely with a high, grumbly sort of voice.

Emily reached up in self-awareness, pulling a tuft of hair before her eyes before returning to him, "Uh, I hope so."

The chef frowned, "A eh, voice told meh to prepare ah dish fer the red-head. I don' go 'round challengin' voices, yah see- bad juju, ya get that?"

Desperately trying to play along, Emily answered with a nod, "I understand, yeah."

Trailing with a shrug, the chef turned around to check his food, "Give it, eh, two minutes, okeh? Tortellini so good, _*smooch*,_ you'd've thought yah died 'n gone ta heav'n!"

Emily smiled at his words, nodding and giving a thanks before turning to try and locate Lena, though she was nowhere to be found. After a moment of waiting, she reached into her pocket for her phone case, opening it and pulling out enough bills to pay, though in that instant, a sudden gust of wind broke past her, sending her hair flying as she reached up to control her wavy locks, the chef yanking his body around and shoving his bulbous head out the window.

"Ay! Minchiaaaa! Cut tha crap, eh?!" he shouted out as he turned from one direction to the other, sliding back into his truck, "Fools! That's theh second time! Don't they know it messes with theh non so che, eh!"

Emily had recoiled from the chef's boisterous attack, though as she recovered herself, she noticed a stack of dollar bills having appeared from nowhere sitting in front of her on the truck's metal serving bar, her eyes squinting as she took it to mean, in her own odd way, Lena was paying. She took the stack and sat it up near the window as the chef spun back around with two thick cone-shaped paper bowls, handing them out to Emily with a crooked grin.

"Ay, see? No sauce, as th' voice said!" he spoke, nearly reverently, before returning his hands through the window, accepting the bills on the way, "Wow! Thank ya kindly, ma'am!"

"Grazie!" Emily offered herself with a polite bow of her head, turning to stroll down the pathway that wound around the perimeter of the park, keeping her eyes out for Lena as she went along, "Okay Lena, I got our dinner. What else have you got up your-"

"Hiyah!"

"GAH!" Emily gasped as she nearly jumped in the air with fright, Lena's voice having appeared right in front of her face.

She managed to keep the two coney bowls somewhat secure as she collected herself, bending low as her breathes quickened, "That wasn't funny, y'know."

Lena's teasing giggle was heard, though she wasn't seen, leaving Emily to turn her head, curiously, though she quickly came to the conclusion that Lena was, somehow, invisible; something not too foreign to her, especially given Lena's propensity to pop through walls whenever it suited her, a particular Halloween night coming to Emily's mind where she would jump through the door and out onto the sidewalk to scare passersby while wearing a hobbit costume, which Lena always proposed were frightening little creatures.

"Okay, okay," Emily nodded, "Do we need to get drinks or any-"

"Over by that bench," Lena answered, still unseen, though leading Emily along anyway, "Why don't you try some of that tortellini though? That guy said it was the best in London, y'know?"

Emily frowned as she lifted her hands to examine them sarcastically, "I mean, as much as I'd like to believe every businessperson's word, I still don't exactly have the faculties to do that."

"Hmm," she heard Lena gently muse, "Maaaybe this is just a game. As usual, I got two different kinds of tortellini for us to share; one's herbed chicken, and the other's spicy something. Which one are you going for?"

Emily concentrated on the two paper cups with careful zeal, finally raising her her right hand in offering, "I guess this one."

Even with no visual cue, Emily could nearly feel Lena's smirk through the air as a tiny bit of pasta suddenly levitated into the air, leaving Emily slightly bemused by the act as Lena spoke up playfully, "Open up."

Doing as she was told, Emily's lips widened, though it didn't stop her from protesting, "'ena, I don't t'ink dis is-"

Before she could figure out what was going, she suddenly felt two pillow-soft masses covering her bottom lip, an undeniable warmth rushing over her as she brought her lips together, allowing Lena to regroup and return to her, taking in both her lips as she sucked at them, bringing her lover's mind into a realm without thought. Lena's hands maneuvered around Emily's arms, which were still held up in front of her, gently clasping her sides as she pulled her waist in close while simultaneously forcing Emily's head backward, wanting more and more of her tasteful lips.

As Emily's arms weakened, Lena finally pulled away, leaving Emily contorted in an odd pose, seemingly by herself to any passersby. Her face had already run a redness that nearly matched her hair, her voice quivering softly as she spoke up mutely, "That wasn't pasta."

Lena giggled as she returned to Emily's sight, sure enough wearing a childish grin as she slid her hands away from her waist, "I guess any stupid stuff I do with my equipment, it's fine if I also use you with you."

"Sure, but you could've just not played it out like that," Emily suggested, though a smile appeared crossing her face, "Still, it was nice. I can't complain."

Lena stuck out her tongue as she fell into the bench, taking a cup from Emily to allow her a seat beside her, pointing out the drinks before having at her meal. Emily wasn't far behind, the two of them enjoying the warmth of the other in the midst of the curling breeze surrounding them. They picked at their noodles, often exchanging with one another, as was their tradition- no matter where they ate, they would get two different dishes in order to share, tonight being no different.

"Mmm; he wasn't lying," Emily mused, licking her thumb, "It _is_ pretty good. It reminds me of that one place we went to, on your birthday, remember?"

Lena nodded, "Yeah, I suppose it does. Nothing beats your cooking though; you make everything so perfectly!"

"If you say so. I've never made tortellini in my life, from scratch anyway. I know they say working stuff with your hands is supposed to add pheromones or a particular taste to everything, but I don't know how true that is," Emily concluded thoughtfully.

"Well, maybe if you didn't use sauces with everything," Lena noted with a grin.

Emily turned to her curiously, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Grabbing ahold of one of her bits of pasta, Lena grinned, "You can't handle food with sauce on it. Then you can't-"

She tossed the tortellini in the air, her head turning up and yanking I'm one direction to another as the pasta fell, Lena successfully catching it in her mouth, sending a thumbs up in the air, "Ta-da! See? They're so fun!"

Emily's lips turned with curiosity as her eyes averted while in thought, "I suppose so. Isn't it worth it for the taste, though? I mean, I go online and pair the food, the sauce, the wine, everything; wouldn't you rather have-"

"I'd rather not have my girl troubling herself, personally," Lena smiled, "It just so happens that less is more, fun!"

Emily grinned, charmed by her lovers' immense youthfulness when it came to such things, "Alright, when you're here, simplicity is key, okay? You want stuff that's small enough to toss, no sauce, and-"

"-and that you use your hands for. I wanna test that out," Lena nodded to herself affirmatively, returning to her cup of tortellini with a determined look, figuring whether or not to try another high-flying catch.

"Why don't _you_ try it?" Lena asked with an expectant look.

Emily gave a nervous twitch of the nose, "Uh, no; you vastly overestimate my dexterity."

Rising to her feet, Lena goaded her on with a lively voice, "C'mon! Just once! You've got me here with you, so you can do anything, right? I'm not even telling you to jump off a bridge."

Frowning, Emily stared into the last few bites of pasta, mulling over the idea in her head until she finally acquiesced, reaching two fingers into the cone and pulled out a piece, holding it in her hand as she turned her eyes up toward Lena, her head nodding in anticipation. With a sudden jerk of her arm, Emily sent the tortellini skyward, immediately throwing her head around as she preemptively attempted to follow its movements. As it reached its apex, floating still for but a moment, Emily's eyes went wide as it suddenly descended toward her, flashes of blue light careening before her eyes as Lena leapt back and forth over her in warp space, poking the tortellini as it fell, doing her best to direct its descent, though with Emily's overcorrections, she had to dash back and forth, her dance showing like blue tracks of a comet beneath the starry sky.

Before she knew it, Emily felt the pasta fall into her mouth, her head instinctively jerking downward to avoid choking, though she gave a relieved sigh before chewing, not noticing Lena's grinning just a pace away. The pilot shoved her hands into her pockets with an accomplished smirk as she watched Emily collect herself.

"Told ya," she teased.

Emily sighed once again, looked at Lena with a wry sort of glance, "You think you're hot stuff, huh?"

"I'm quite certain I am," Lena replied with a wink, stepping toward her with her legs on either side of Emily's knees as she sat there, leaning low so that their faces were level, "And I'm all yours."

She reached over and gingerly pushed Emily's red hair out from before her face, tucking its tufts behind her ear before holding her cheek, Lena's lips closing the gap as their eyes fell closed, losing one another into their lover's touch until the crowded street across the park fell silent, rendered speechless by their binding adoration of one another.

Pulling away, albeit reluctantly, Emily shivered at the chilling feeling at her lips with Lena displaced, "There's dessert back home. I made sure to bake some of your favorites after your text. Maybe some champagne, too, to celebrate."

"Mmm," Lena mused as she pulled her partner to her feet, "Sounds like a plan. Just put some movie on and get together on the couch with some cookies. You sure know how to work your magic and make a girl feel loved, y'know."

Emily cocked a grin, "It's easy with you. The only other girls I've been with, nothing just ever clicked the way they do with you, you know?"

"Tell me about it," Lena groaned, "My parents were pretty strict, so I kinda toyed with the idea of getting with boys just to appease 'em. Talk about not clicking, right?!"

She giggled, almost pleased with herself about how funny it all sounded, shaking her head with a satisfied sigh as Emily asked, curiously, "Did you know you were into girls even then?"

"Eh," Lena shrugged with indifference, "It was kind of a last ditch thing for my parent's sake; I don't talk to them anymore, right? so it didn't take. Some randy named Gregory, he was the last straw. He leaned in and howled, literally howled, in my ear and said he could finally to be a werewolf in London or some junk like-"

She turned to see Emily's hand covering her mouth, trying as hard as she could to hide her laughter, even turning away as tears appeared at her closed eyes while straining from her refraining. Lena smiled at her attitude, shrugging as she allowed a laugh to leave her.

"Okay, it's pretty funny, I guess," Lena concluded, shaking her head in disbelief as her acceptance prompted Emily to reveal her amusement, breaking loose with a massive laugh, sending her body falling forward as she held her side, her laughter like a melodic chorus underneath a silent moon. Lena watched with pulled lips as Emily composed herself, still ejecting random bursts of laughter as pulled her hair back.

"Sorry, that was just hysterical!" she admitted, "I don't know; it just seems like something that would only happen to you."

Lena shrugged at the insinuation, reaching her hand up toward Emily's face as she grew still, allowing her lover's finger to wipe the laughing tears from her face, "Well, in the end, I tasted heaven's nectar and found it sweet. I found my own and only; I think I did pretty good for myself, thank you very much!"

"You did wonderful," Emily agreed, grabbing her arm and pulling her close enough to rest her head on her shoulder as they walked along the lonely cement at their feet, together, "I couldn't be happier."

* * *

 ** _A/N: This is the most British thing I've ever written._**

 ** _The chef said, "non so che", which is sort of the Italian equivalent of the French 'je nais se quoi', according to legitimate Italian-speakers on an online forum ;D_**


	19. A Time-Traveler's Charge

Emily giggled incessantly as she dashed into the living room, carrying a bowl of popcorn and a plate of various baked goodies, trying to keep ahead of her huntress, who was in hot pursuit, Lena having challenged her in their mild inebriation, any thoughts of losing food to the carpet below being thrust out of their minds. Lena grinned wildly as she held out her arms, also packed with different assortments of snack, trying to rush and grab Emily somehow, her mind not at all concerned with the method as much as the result.

"I'm gonna catch you!" Lena shouted with a bubbly air, "The 'Go!' doesn't mean you're supposed to go away!"

"No!" Emily cried in a rapturous laughter, fearing whatever tickling advance she faced should her lover get her hands on her, "Nearly making it to the couch where she'd be safe.

Just as she was about to cast herself through the air, she noticed a blue dash of light blow past her, Lena suddenly appearing in her way, having already ceded her handfuls of items to the coffee table and prepared, with outstretched arms, to take hold of her red-haired angel. For her own part, Emily's motor skills had faded enough that her footing only became slurred as she tried to force herself backward, only forcing herself to stumble in Lena's direction, falling into the pilots arms as well as falling into further laughter.

"You cheated!" she shouted with eyes closed from tears, "This doesn't even count!"

Lena grinned as she propped Emily up, happy to see the floor having been spared from anything falling from Emily's grasp, "Darn it, really? I lost?"

She feigned a frustrated sigh as she fell into the couch, crossing her arms, "I guess I'll just have my punishment and sit here next to you all night. Bullocks!"

Emily smirked at her implication, taking a seat as well after placing her dishes on the table and grabbing the remote, giggling once more as Lena hopped over onto her knees beside her, immediately curling up there in the space between Emily and the couch.

"Quit it! That tickles!" she laughed, coiling away from Lena's hands and nuzzling face.

Undeterred, Lena merely shoved her head further into Emily's side, reaching her arms around her body to pull her closer, leaving her giggling further at the ticklish feeling, finally pleading, "Come on, are we gonna watch something or not? We could probably binge something that's short if you're up for staying up late."

Sighing with wistful loss as she pulled away, Lena nevertheless spoke brightly, "Yeah! Just pick somethin'; I'm not too choosy, especially with this stuff you've made. You could plant me on the couch and call me Hibiscus!"

"Let's not," Emily grinned, flipping through the television, "I don't know why I asked, you're always at the ready to stay up late. I have to tie you down to keep you in bed with me sometimes."

Lena wore a comically wondering face as Emily smiled, "I don't mind, but seriously, if you're gonna use that shampoo, and with how soft and warm your skin is, I don't know how I couldn't want you in there with me forever."

She paused as she suddenly turned her eyes toward the bottle of champagne on the coffee table, her brow rising in surprise, "Wow, I'm already pretty sloshed."

"Pfft," Lena scoffed, reaching for a glass of the wine and handing it to her partner, "C'mon, I wanna hear more about things you'd never say otherwise!"

Emily rolled her eyes, "Yeah, you'd like that, wouldn't you?"

"I'd adore it," Lena nodded like a puppy.

Groaning, Emily still smirked as she took the glass and followed with another sip, shaking her head, "Its so unfair; your metabolism basically forces you to keep your wits about you. I can't ever remember you saying anythin' weird."

Lena grinned, falling back against the couch as she replied, "I only ever drink with you; how would you even know? I could'a told you I was a bubble boy and you'd-"

"PFFF-HA HA HA!" Emily suddenly cackled, her body collapsing into her lap as she instinctively held her glass away from her as she shook, lost in this reverie, "Ha ha! Bubble boy! Bub-bub-bubble!"

More lost as to her waning class of humor, Lena couldn't help but laugh herself, though not nearly to Emily's extent. She threw her body back against the couch as her ribs began to hurt from incessance, tears already filling her eyes in rapturous laughter.

Lena shook her head in disbelief at just how lost her lover was, though she enjoyed every moment of it, refusing to take her eyes off from her as she reached for a macadamia-filled cookie from the table, taking a bite as Emily began to descend from her high.

"Hey," she muttered, leaning in close, carrying a serious energy despite her reddened eyes and vain attempt to hold back her grin, "Hey Lena."

Lena's own lips curled in amusement as Emily's face came frightfully close to her own, still unable to demonstrate restraint as she spoke quietly, laughter breaking through even as she spoke, "Bubbow."

She fell back as she collapsed once again, her fire arm resting along she'd midsection as her body ached from its laughter, leaving Lena to share in the same exuberance, muttering to her partner between a cracked smile, "You're so sauced."

Emily couldn't argue, though as she began to regain her composure, she pushed herself back up, wiping away tears as she sighed deeply, "Okay… Okay… We're good. Here's a show I've been all about the last few weeks, alright? We'll just sit back and enjoy it, okay?"

"Sounds like a plan to me," Lena nodded with half a cookie hanging from her mouth.

She bit off the rest of her bite, grabbing her cookie as she settled in, snuggling beside Emily with far more tame movements than earlier, her head whipping around in shock as Emily grabbed the cookie from her hand and took a bite of her own before passing it back, leaving Lena with a grin at the brashness of such an act, one she never would have done without alcoholic urging.

The show began as Lena reached for Emily's phone, smiling at the sight of the same picture greeting her as was on her own, dimming the lights before placing it down again, leaving the two of them with little more than the television and a gentle orange glow as they sat there together, taking random paws at the various goodies on the table.

"Hey, pull that blanket up," Emily asked, shaking in her seat, "It's cold and I don't want to get up."

Lena did as she asked, grinning as she hiked up the blanket over herself, "I could be at the thermostat in three nanoseconds."

"Yeah, but that'd be three less nanoseconds of you being here with me," Emily mused, again demonstrating her abilities while slightly intoxicated.

Lena smiled a soft smile, turning her head over her shoulder to catch Emily's attention, "I love you."

"Mmmhmhmm," Emily moaned warmly as she quickly buried her head in Lena's side to hide her embarrassment, "I love you too."

Her arms wrapped around Lena as she pulled her backwards, trying to pull her closer as the blanket was pulled over stop the pair of them, covering the two in their own warmth, though leaving their arms enclosed to the coffee table, a fact that had been lost on Emily a moment earlier. She suddenly frowned at the thought, though either in her own wanting, or her own powers of premonition, Lena's body evaporated for just a moment before returning to its place beneath the thick blanket, the fabric barely falling as she warped so quickly, returning with a brownie in her head.

She winked at Emily, who only frowned at not being included, "Neat trick, huh?"

"I suppose," she muttered, reaching her hand out for whatever share of the treat Lena would offer, groaning as she teasingly pulled her hand away, "Staaahp."

Leaving Lena asnicker, Emily pouted for a moment until she finally received half of the treat, Lena sticking her tongue out, "Okay, here, cutie."

Emily turned eager, happily receiving the brownie and carefully taking a bite from half of her end, moaning appreciatively as she savored the taste of home, this recipe having gone unchanged since before she'd been introduced to it.

"So good," she spoke with a contented smile, her eyes closed s she took in the sweet tasting treat, leaving Lena with a wanting look on her face, eyeing her own brownie which didn't nearly have the same effect on her.

She watched in the same way an animal might watch a human use a tool, critiquing Emily's every move as she brought the rest of her treat into her mouth, as if ready to replicate her action to achieve the desired effect, though Lena quickly lost herself at Emily's lips opening, catching just the faintest glimpse of her tongue as it ran along he bite of brownie to pull it toward her teeth, a shiver running through Lena's body at the sight.

Emily sighed with a satisfied breath, nodding to herself as she spoke, "That's some good champagne, I think!"

She giggled at the thought, pulling her hand up toward her face to lick the chocolate off from her thumb and index finger, though halfway along, Lena whipped a quick hand up to grasp her wrist, locking her back to leave Emily with a look of surprise.

"What's up?" she wondered sincerely, noticing Lena's intent stare on her fingers.

Slowly, Lena's vision trailed up Emily's arm, locking with her own pair of eyes as she leaned forward, her eyelids closing as Lena brought her lover's arm the rest of the way, her lips parting to allow the chocolate stained finger into the warmth of her mouth, forcing her lips closed around its tip and leaving Emily quite aghast at the sight. Lena's tongue ran along her fingertip, lapping at its end, slurping along its length as she tried to relieve her lover's skin of that sweet blemish. While initially shocked, Emily's eyes fell into contentedness at both the care and the adoration being demonstrated, even if in an odd sort of way.

Suddenly, Lena's head tilted downward, manipulating Emily's finger as her tongue switched from a pointed, precise stroke to a far more broad swatch, her tongue now wrapping around as much of her finger as she could, sending a tremor through Emily's body, recognizing this action far more sharply than the previous one. A heavy breath escaped Emily's lips as Lena slowly slid her face away, sucking at her lover's skin until a _pop_ signaled her final departure, leaving her with a softened face as she smiled.

"I don't know about everyone else, but your skin makes stuff taste much better," Lena surmised before repeating the process with her thumb, though far less extensively, as though merely testing her hypothesis with a cursory taste, "Mmmhmm. Definitely tastier."

Along the way, Emily's face has turned to a blush, leaving Lena with a grin as her eyesight caught a glimpse of the lovely sight, always finding her face and hair matching to be a far more fetching sort of sight than she'd ever seen on anybody else. She grinned rather mischievously, knowing such a thing was quite rare when she was slightly sauced as she was.

"Did I finally get past that armor?" she muttered with a flash of a teasing tongue.

Emily replied weakly, "N-No! I just…"

Despite her resistance, she said no more, leaving Lena with as much confirmation as she needed, suddenly grinning wider as she leaned overtop of Emily, bringing her knees up onto the couch, straddling her lover's lap as she bent her head low, nearly meeting hers already.

"I wonder…" she mused with teasing intent, bringing the last bite of her brownie up to her face and holding it at her lips, eyeing Emily with wanting eyes as she lowered herself, giving Emily all the direction she needed, even if she found it entirely embarrassing.

Emily's lips opened carefully, almost unsure, though she still closed her eyes and accepted Lena's altered kiss, immediately tasting sweetness not only frown the small bit of brownie, but from Lena's lips, the softest, most warm pair of skin that Emily ever could have wanted to be joined to. Their kiss began chaste enough, though as the brownie began to melt and render its form meaningless, their lips both immediately began closing atop the others, sucking at their lover's lips, as though tugging over the sweetness, trying to claim enough of the chocolate before finding enough of the sweet taste from the other's softness, simply leaving them claiming the other's lips entirely, sucking delicately, neither of them willing to take a breath, lest they be apart for any amount of time.

Lena pushed herself further over her lover, Emily falling back into the crook of the sofa between the arm and backing, her head resting just comfortably along the padding as Lena's determination grew, her kissing becoming more and more primal as she descended further into nothing but worship for this red-haired angel.

"MMM," Emily suddenly moaned aloud into Lena's mouth, feeling her breaths begin to lapse, instinctively sucking in past her lips to compensate which only served to bring more of Lena's gasps and skin into her mouth, "HMMM!"

She suddenly recalled her nose, having lost entirely to both the alcohol and Lena herself, sucking in a relieving breath as Lena continued to take her lips, the both of them sharing even in their exhalation as their hearts burst into full speed, the tightness boiling in Emily's chest as Lena's tongue began to explore beyond her lips, her mind flashing white, back to just a few moments ago.

Emily pulled away, gasping for air as her half-open eyes refuse to break contact with Lena's, feeling a warm sort of comfort in being covered by her partner's body from above, "You knew we weren't watching anything, did you?"

Lena grinned, "I knew I'd be watching _you_. doing very nice things, at that."

She gave a wry kind of smirk as she lowered her head in a seductive stare, "You could watch me do some very nice things for you, too."

Still reeling from their earlier breathless delight, Emily could only watch Lena for a moment, almost unable to comprehend her words. At such an adorable sight, her lover having been reduced down to, essentially, a ball of lovely-smelling hair and tasty skin, Lena stuck her tongue out in a teasing pose, though she didn't retrieve it, instead lowering her head into the inviting nape of her neck, running her tongue along Emily's collarbone until she began to flinch at the sensation.

"L-Lena," she mumbled quietly, reaching her hands up to grasp the back of her head, nearly pulling her closer into her skin, "Lena…"

Her lover's head turned and bowed as Lena's tongue followed the tendons and valleys along Emily's neck, pulling away only to shift above her face, the two meeting eye to eye for only a moment before Lena softly kissed her face, once, twice, again, again.

"G-Geez…" Emily whines softly, "You don't need to get that close to my freckles…"

Lena muttered between kisses, her face still, "But they're so pretty."

Emily frowned as the pads of her fingers curled inward to inadvertently send her nails against Lena's skin as pleasurable shocks bit at her skin with each gently kiss at her face, her voice enraptured, "Y-You're so hopeless sometimes…"

She felt Lena's lips swirling against her skin, forming into a smirk before her head jumped back to her neck at the same time Lena's hand fell against Emily's stomach, the red-head's eyes breaking open just slightly as she recognized her lover's intention, her own hand meeting atop hers and resting there as Lena sucked at her skin, her hand slowly running down Emily's body with her own hand in tow.

"Lena…" Emily whispered in enraptured whispers, "Lena…"

She gave a quiet gasp as Lena's fingers pushed into her skin, pressing beneath her woolen pajama pants, even behind her panties that she had spent a considerable time picking out for her lover. Perhaps due to the alcohol, she figured, the nerves just beneath her skin were alight with pleasures shocks at every press of Lena's fingers, her index and middle fingers spreading apart as they worked toward the space between her legs. Having grasped onto Lena's wrist to continue following along, Emily's hand slid down back atop her fingers, curling her own digits just as-

"Len-AH!"

Emily's body instinctually jumped, leaving Lena with a mischievous grin as her lover reacted to her motion. Emily curled up, pulling her legs up as pressing her thighs together as though to snuggle Lena's hands there just above her emboldened lips. Her free arm reached around Lena's head, grabbing a tuft if her lover's hair and pulling her into a kiss while her opposing hand entwined with Lena's fingers as they swirled around, holding hands almost as a finger pressed into Emily, causing a succulent moan to escape into Lena's mouth.

"MMM," she moaned, pulling her things up, encouraging Lena to press on, "Mmm-ahh… Fuck, babe. I missed your touch so much. I- HMM-"

Lena stole her words with another kiss as she added another finger to Emily's tightness, running them rhythmically along her curling walls, watching her face through narrow eyes to see her lover's face swirl into longing, her own heart beginning to race, her legs weakening at the very sight of her lover falling into pleasured submission, Emily's body merely twisting and turning only to heighten whatever it was Lena knew was bringing her to a ruinous ecstasy.

Emily's eyes suddenly appeared above whetted cheeks, a grin stretching out as her breath shook, noticing Lena's weakening frame, "Sorry to have left you, love."

Lena's face tightened seriously, "I'll take care of you first."

A smirk appeared as Emily replied with a cocky attitude, "Since when have we ever taken turns?"

"Because," Lena began, though unable to continue, "Just because."

Emily's face left its amusement, more due to her lover's now-stagnant fingers, and she spoke up, "You're still feeling guilty? Love, I already told you-"

"I know what you told me," Lena interrupted.

Emily frowned, "Then you know that-GAH!"

In a twisting moment of bursting nerves, Emily's body immediately contracted, her muscles rendered uncontrollable for the slightest moment as Lena's thumb found its spot just above her lips, leaving Emily's breaths as shallow as they'd ever been as she stared into Lena's eyes, the pilot continuing again in her loving pulsations of fingertips and caressing. She stared into Emily's eyes with a sort of bestial intent, which Emily was unable to resist, fighting tooth and nail with her muscles to keep her eyes open so as to witness her lover's intense adoration of her body.

Emily's body continued its rhythmic dance beneath her lover, her hot breaths brushing against Lena's face as the two shared their lips and tongues, their entire bodies, and very soon, they would share much more as Emily's insides began to entangle itself in rapturous pleasure, fighting back her release of only to revel in Lena's worship for just one moment longer. Having known this woman, however, Lena knew how to break her final defense, while also taking from Emily her own sort of delight.

Her lover squealed in piteous loss as Lena's hand left its curled form between her thighs, Emily frowning for but a moment before Lena slid down her body, grabbing handfuls of her waistband and yanking her pajamas down, always catching a thrill out of seeing her lover's legs framed like a painting beneath the lovely little things she'd find to greet her lover's adoring face.

Lena grinned as her eyes jumped toward Emily's face, her hair awash along the arm of the couch as she held a finger in her mouth, seeming to be sucking it in place of any part of Lena's body, "Green?"

Emily smiled, "You think I look pretty in it."

"I certainly do," Lena poke in reply, sticking out a teasing tongue before returning to the green-striped pair of panties hugging Emily's waist, alternating between different gradations in a playful sort of coloration, though also doing little to hide from her just how turned on she had made her lover.

Without removing the article of clothing so delicately curated for her own taste, Lena slid down off the couch, pulling its bridged section of clothing to the side and taking little time to admire her lover, particularly knowing just how far the both of them now were from waiting for much of anything. Before she could press on, she felt a delicate touch atop her head, feeling Emily's tender fingers curling into her hair, lovingly caressing her scalp as she eyed her lover with appreciative eyes.

"I'm gonna screw you so good, y'know," Emily cocked a grin.

Lena's eyes jumped to meet hers, her face most obscured by her crotch, and she replied, "Funny. I was just thinking the same thing about right now."

Emily stuck her tongue out, though it immediately retreated as she took in a sharp breath, her body rising from the shock, her hands clutching the couch and pushing her body up as Lena's lips met hers, leaving her encaptured by nothing more than those soft bits of skin. Her eyes went wide as she took in the feeling of Lena's slurping tongue crossing bodies and taking her in, leaving electric pleasure in its wake. All she could do was pull Lena as close to her as she could, knowing her lover would be quite fine suffocating, if only to take in nothing but her lover.

It was much the same way Emily went about these things, a thought that brought a softened smile to her face.

* * *

Emily awoke at some point in the night, still awash with a gentle tingle of pleasantness covering every bit of her skin, making her all the more aware of the thick blanket atop of her, its slightly frilly fabric running comfortably above her as she turned onto her back, simply closing her eyes to return to sleep, though she quickly felt a warmth accompanying her beneath the comforter, that of Lena Oxton, her own personal hero, who lay in her own place in the bed they shared, her breaths light and rhythmic, sometimes followed by a cute-sounding mumble of a snore whenever her head would turn out of place.

Emily, with eyes still closed, continued the spinning of her body, coming to her left side just beside Lena's stomach-down form, her head half-buried in her pillow, allowing Emily a quick look at her gently soft face, finding her to be far more beautiful that anything she could have ever conjured. She slid closer and rested her head on Lena's pillow before draping an arm around Lena's back in a foolhardy attempt at wrapping her up completely, though she was only met with silence as Lena came to wake, her breathing becoming inaudible as her eyes blinked open, a smiling appearing buried in her pillow as she noticed Emily's close face.

"Hey, love," she spoke quietly, the dark of night compelling her to do so.

Emily replied with a smile all her own, only spinning her head into the fluffiness to hide her embarrassment, her hand gently caressing Lena's back instead. Lena grinned, knowing she would often find such a feeling after they would embark on some voyage along the sexual realm, fining her all the more pretty for such things. She lazily spun onto her side toward Emily, allowing her lover's arm to wrap around her.

"There. Not so embarrassed when I'm looking away, right?" Lena asked softly.

"Nope," Emily replied easily, pulling Lena against her chest to allow her a spot to rest her face against her shoulder, eyes closed, all but prepared to fall asleep in this warmth.

She felt Lena's hand come up and hold onto her own, both their hands just coming to rest above the valley between her breasts, before the pilot brought Emily's to her face, giving her a sincere kiss at its backside before allowing it to return.

"This is home."

"Hmm?" Emily wondered with an inquiring hum.

Lena smiled, turning her head over her shoulder to catch whatever glimpse she could of Emily's face, "There's nothing else but you that I come home to. So, y'know, _you're_ my home."

A gentle giggle left Emily, "Look at you, so romantic all of a sudden."

Emily nuzzled her face into Lena's neck, causing her dark hair to shiver as she fought away the tickling feeling, leaving Emily to conclude, "You know, the only way to keep you in bed with me, all night, is to keep your legs from performing much at all."

"Sounds like that movie," Lena chided with a grin.

"Or I could make it more fun and just make love to you until you can barely feel them," Emily snickered, kissing her shoulder, "Even if I can't complete that task, I can make you too tired to prance off."

She took a moment aback, thinking for a moment before, "I'm your home, huh?"

"Mmhmm," Lena replied, her hand tightening over Emily's, "Your arms are my home, your eyes, your fingers, your lips. I'd let the world crumble to its knees before I choose anywhere else I'd rather be. When I run off, it's only to protect you; that's why-"

"Why you make me lock the door," Emily nodded with a smile, "I know, I know."

Lena took a moment, then slowly fell onto her back, Emily sliding away to allow her to do so, Lena's eyes peering over toward her lover as she muttered, "You're the only person who's ever understood me, or taken the time to get me. I've been told my high energy is like a wild fire, just burning everybody I get close to…"

"Lena…" Emily spoke softly, propping herself up on her elbow, watching her from above, "I love you. so, so very much. If that stupid analogy is true, I'd be an endless wick or something, I don't know; I love who you are, you know. and you love me, so… That counts more than anything. If _I_ had to choose, I'd give up anything for-"

"Not your hair," Lena frowned, "Never give that up; it's too gorgeous."

Emily chuckled lightly, reached up to pull her hair down a large tuft of hair, "Alright, alright. Not the hair, okay?"

"Or your eyes," Lena went on, seriously, "or that thing you do when you're really focused on something and you start rubbing your chin. Don't give that up either."

Grinning, Emily lowered her head for a moment to hide a giggle, returning to her serious-looking girlfriend with a quick, "Anything else I shouldn't give up if I'm having to trade stuff?"

"Maybe just everything," Lena shrugged with a grin, "I can jump through space-time to rescue you. How many people can say that?"

Emily's lips crinkled at the thought, her eyes averted, "Well, there was some randy back in college who claimed to be able to send people through time, but I don't think that was the same thing."

She returned to her lover with a smile, "Hard to beat the real thing when it's laying right beside you."

"You're very observant, love," Lena grinned, reaching out to kiss her other half's cheek, "You said I was always here when you needed me. If there's ever a time when you don't, when you simply want me here, I'll come running, okay?"

Emily smiled, "You've got a world to protect."

"I've got a woman to protect," Lena corrected.

Smiling, her red-haired lover just barely shook her head, "You think you're so cool, huh?"

"I believe you've called me your hero on occasion," Lena replied cheekily.

Emily eyed her more seriously, "You're a hero to far more people than me, you know."

"I'd give up everything else to just be your hero," Lena whispered, her head leaning toward Emily to catch her lips with her own, pulling them into a gentle kiss.

Emily pushed herself closer as they shared in their delirious and tired attempts at purely chaste kisses, "Just don't give up your fire. or your lips."

Lena grinned against her kiss, forcing Emily to finish, "I don't know how I could live without either."

* * *

 _ **A/N: That moment when the foreplay is so sensual, you don't even bother writing the rest of the love scene :p**_

 ** _The next chapter will be the epilogue, which will set up the remaining two stories in this Overwatch saga I've been writing, so expect something to whet your appetite for the next story, which will be a Talon-focused tale to set up all those characters for the finale. I hope you're excited to see how everything ties together- I'm beyond thrilled at the prospect of writing it ;D_**


	20. Epilogue

A grey room, lit only by a single low light, situated in the most fortified section of Gibraltar's Watchpoint, buried deep into the Hispanian rock face that overlooked the Atlantic. This was the interrogation room, accompanied only by a single door and a mirror that was obviously for observation, facing the empty table at which a single person now sat, a collection of nails tapping along the face of the cheaply made table as they eyed the mirror, wondering at whom they were staring.

They slid back into their chair, their eyes not moving at all as they continued watching the screen with lazing interest, even now as they became more comfortable, sunken into the matching chair, a pair along with the table, perhaps.

The doorknob clicked, earning their attention, a flash of red hair crossing their vision as their head jerked toward the opening gap in the wall to reveal Jack Morrison, surely a face they hadn't seen for many years. The Captain took a step into the room, devoid of any of his armor, simply clad in a casual set of jeans and a white shirt with a dark hoodie, clutching a Manila folder in his hand as he kicked the door shut behind him, turning up to their new, hard-fought prisoner.

"O'Deorain," he acknowledged, stepping toward the table and pulling out the chair opposing Moira's side, taking a seat.

"Jack," she answered plainly, "I was expecting the ape or something. I'm quite surprised you're still able to walk. You certainly look like hell. How's Overwatch doing anyway? You guys clean up any tourist centers lately?"

He didn't answer, simply going on through the folder, though his silence didn't perturb Moira in the slightest as she went on, "I know I wasn't ever on the payroll, but you could at least acknowledge my courtesy. There aren't many things that separate us from animals, and common courtesy _is_ one of them. Well, I suppose not; I know you were like a dog in the early days, not barely a titter toward anybody, yet you still offered handshakes."

Jack continued, not offering anything in the way of emotion as he pulled out pages, pictures, and an assortment of other sheets of paper from within the folder, barely listening as Moira continued with a droning sigh, "Jack, Jack, Jack… You know how often I heard that name during my short stint with you guys? Ugh, it became like a mosquito buzzing in my ear; Reyes just going on an on, buzz, buzz- I'm judging by your capturing me against my will, you two haven't exactly made up?"

She leaned forward onto the table, crossing her arms and holding herself up at her elbows, "Come on, Jack. Give me a welcoming smile."

His eyes turned up toward her without an inch of movement from his head, his eyes peering at her as though from a man long lost to the years, "Two of my best are dead having tried to capture you. Talon brainwashed another, and _they_ were an inch away from murdering their partner in the middle of the night. So I apologize if I seem a bit pissed off."

Moira shrugged, "The sweeter the fruit, the higher the price I suppose. If you want to taste the fruit of knowledge, I'd say we know enough already that the consequences of such a thing are quite massive."

Jack lowered his eyes slowly, returning to his work as Moira cracked a smirk, leaning back in her chair with a haughty air about her, "I'm assuming that _you're_ assuming that I'm working for Talon? I feel as though I should let you know that I'm a mere developmental scientist for a private business; one business that understands-"

Jack slid the open folder across the table, shattered sheets of paper sprawled across its two segments, leaving Moira to lean forward and examine the contents, her eyes narrowing in examination.

"Where did you get this?" she asked aloud, not noticing a single indication that anything presented to her was official Overwatch material.

With slanted eyes of his own, Jack grumbled, "That's your work, is it not?"

Moira's eyes jumped up to Jack, "What are you getting at?"

"Two of my soldiers died to bring you in. How much do you think I'm willing to put on the line?"

Her eyes fell in anger, her lips nearly pursed with frustration, "If you think you can just ask me to-"

"I'm not asking," Jack interrupted, heatedly, "I'm telling."

Suddenly, a grin stretched across Moira's face as she leaned back into a lazy post, shaking her head unbelievably, "You and Gabe, you two are just alike. You know, when I was drawing, I would often depict the two of you as-"

"If you don't give me an affirmative answer," Jack warned with a dark, near sinister, voice, "I'm going to show you just how much like Reyes I can be."

Moira's smug face fell, her head shaking back and forth in defiance, "You wouldn't hit a woman, would you?"

Jack's eyes tensed, "We both know you're the farthest thing from that now."

An frown appeared across Moira's face.

"A little birdie told me," Jack answered unprompted.

Moira gave him an evil sort of glare, "I hope that little birdie told you, then, that I'm not at all good at answering questions under coercion."

"Little Birdie told me quite a bit," Jack spoke, his gravelly voice nearly shaking the table as he took a hold of the table, pushing his chair backward as he rose to his feet.

"I was Gabe's CO. I knew everything that he had going on," he muttered, turning to drop the collection of mini blinds to conceal them from the next room.

Moira spat under her breath as she grinned, "You're gonna look me in the eye and tell me you knew everything that man was up to? You're more stupid than he ever gave you credit for."

Jack spun the lock to the door, turning his head down with closed eyes, "He taught me how to get words out of people like you."

"People like me. How quaint," she challenged, "There's nobody like me."

He shrugged, "Down here, we've got nothing but time. and there's plenty of it to figure out what makes somebody like you tick."

Jack approached the table, leaning over it as he gave a challenging stare, his voice heavy with regret.

"You're going to tell me what you did to that man. You _are_ going to tell me how to catch the uncatchable," he finished.

"How to kill the unkillable."


End file.
